Saving Bella
by Red Pandas Dnt Eat Cheezits
Summary: Bella’s been broken one too many times. She can hardly trust anyone with the exception of a couple people to a certain extent. When Edward comes to town, can he finally heal this broken Bella? Or will it turn out to be a catastrophe? AU. All human. BxE
1. New Things Bite

Saving Bella

Summary: Bella's been broken one too many times. She can hardly trust anyone with the exception of a couple people to a certain extent. When the new guy comes to town, can he finally heal this broken Bella? AU. All human.

Author's Note: I know, I wanted to wait to post this, but I couldn't. I will still update Living With Vampires, but I had this strange urge to write this, so I did. And it turned out to be something I actually liked. So, I hope you like it.

Chapter 1 – New Things Bite

And then his lips turned up into the most hateful and malicious sneer that I've ever seen in my life. And as he turned his body in my direction to allow me to catch a glimpse of his cold dark coal-like eyes. I froze at the mere sight of him. This man, I knew him, but I guess at the same time I didn't. All I knew was that he was someone I once trusted, someone that I could depend on, and now he had just finished torturing my mother in front of my very eyes. With my kitchen knife no less. The very same kitchen knife that I was using earlier to cut onions for some dish that I would have said that I despised, but I didn't know the full context of the word until this very moment. I _despised_ this man, truly utterly undoubtedly _despised _him from all the corners of my soul.

Instinctively, my body was working up as scream that was so loud and possibly so high pitched that maybe—and this was a vain hope—that my scream would paralyze him so I have just enough time to escape. Where? I'm not entirely sure. But I know for a fact that anywhere else would have been better than here. Just as the panic and insanity started pulsing through my veins an odd sensation had wiped it all out. It was a strange numbing sensation, almost calming. It felt almost like the Novocaine that a dentist would use before a root canal, except here it numbed my whole entire body in a matter of seconds. I couldn't feel type of pain, physical or emotional. This is a feeling that I would live with forever; it would be a gift and a curse.

But at the moment he turned the towards me to do whatever he did to my Mother to me. That's when my newfound defense system knocked me out unconscious.

Five Years Later . . .

I was sitting in my class listening to my teacher scolding me for some sort of misconduct. Obviously he was new. He had no idea who I am, or rather, my past because no one truly knows me; not anymore at least. People just assume that they knew me, but all that they know is what happened. They don't know anything about me at all.

I looked up at the teacher, with a grin slowly appearing on my face. It wasn't like I wanted to smirk him, that new teacher fresh out of college. You know the type. He was the 'cool teacher' before you do the most trivial and insignificant thing, then they blow up in your face trying to prove their authority before everyone else found the teacher's weak side and took advantage.

My mother was the same way, before . . . before that most unfortunate event. That's what everyone had been calling it. And that's such a lie. It wasn't _unfortunate_, it was one of the most abhorrent, horrific, atrocious, appalling, unspeakable event that I've ever witnessed. Anything but _unfortunate_.

I started to slowly feel numb and almost giddy thinking about it. I would have screamed or _something_ if I could. But right now, I couldn't. I couldn't even wipe that smug smile on my face that grew ever more pronounced on my face.

"Do you think this is funny Ms. Swan?!" the new guy demanded. As much as he tried to sound authoritative and unbreakable I could hear the uncertainty in his voice; and how it wavered ever so slightly.

I almost giggled at seeing his weakness. This guy has obvious control-issues.

"You know what young lady?! I do not like your attitude at all, I'm sending you to the Principal's office at once!" he stomped to his desk and started scribbling a note on some slip of paper. He stomped his way back to my desk and slammed it back on my desk. "And you better go to the Principal's office, or else I'm going to make sure you're suspended for this!"

I sighed, slipping out of my seat. I grabbed my worn out backpack and slung it across one shoulder. I clutched the slip in my right hand, almost crumpling it before I placed it in my faded gray grungy military-like jacket pocket.

"See ya, Mister. . ." I squinted at the board to look for a name. Of course there was one, he was new after all. "Mister Beail." I attempted a grin as best as I could, but it turned out as a grimace.

I headed out the too familiar halls. I roamed these halls even when I wasn't in high school; it all has to do with who you know. I turned the usual corners and there it was, the Principal's office. I've been in that building too many times to count. And no, not because I'm one of those problem children who goes through a lot and gets into a lot of trouble when an event like mine occurred. I was sent here because I _had_ to. I was sent every so often to see how I was doing, and no, not so I could talk to counselors, but to the Principal.

I walked through the generic brown door that can be easily confused with any other high school's office door. It was sad really. And you wouldn't believe the number of times I requested for the school to be colored a different color other than brown. It was so generic and plain. And not to mention the color of that crap on the bottom of your shoe you try to scrap off with your sibling's toothbrush.

"Hello Bella," the secretary said warmly with deep concern in her voice. She gave me those sympathetic eyes that everyone else who worked at this wretched school.

I waved at her briefly, giving her a genuine smile. I actually like Lynn, the secretary. She's been to almost all of my birthday parties and she isn't that bad. She was actually a _friend_ before the whole incident. And I'm aware of how freakish I sound because one of my friends is a high school secretary, but she's only in her late twenties or early thirties. Honestly, she isn't _that_ old.

I opened the heavy door to reveal a forty-ish year old man with a bald head—due to his own pair of clippers, believe me—and his hideous brown suite with an olive green tie. He sat behind his maple wood desk that had a name plate, computer, office supplies, and paperwork. There were three chairs in front of his desk and a couch pressed up against the wall next to a large bookcase.

"Bella aren't you supposed to be in class?" he asked me with his deep busfiness fvoice. I was entertained that he even bothered using it at me, but that was probably because we were at school.

I shrugged. "I guess, but apparently I got kicked out," I said half-way amused.

"Your teacher kicked you out?" the Principal repeated dubiously. His giant dark eyebrows furrowed together. I could see his fists clenching into balls making his knuckles white. I knew this would happen and now I feel sorry for the poor sap who's about to lose his job because of his rookie mistake.

"It's okay Uncle Tim," I attempted to sooth him.

And this is what I mean by who _I _know. I'm related to the Principal. Yes, he is my uncle. And by uncle I don't necessarily mean the man who's your father's only brother, but this man is also the man who I've spent the majority of my weekends and summers with for six years. He helped raised me after . . . after the 'unfortunate event' with his wife, my aunt Stacy, and the twins. We all grew extremely close. So whenever I feel like popping in and saying hi, I usually fake an illness or say that I'm feeling extremely depressed and that I have to speak to the Principal ASAP. They always fall for it. I remember this one time, he took me and his kids for family counseling, we didn't go to family counseling of course. We ate burgers and relaxed a bit before lunch began. I figure he could get in trouble for our family counseling incident_s_, but oh well, that doesn't stop us.

"No it's not! Completely unacceptable when your at your fragile state!" Uncle Timothy bellowed. I winced at the word _fragile. _I hated it when people said that I was in a 'fragile state.' It was ridiculous.

"Let me see the slip he gave you," he held his hand out demanding. Right now he was acting more uncle than Principal.

I reached in my pocket and fished out the slip of paper he wanted reluctantly. I handed to him while he studied it with wild eyes.

"Hank Beail. I remember him," Principal Swan turning his voice into his business one once more. "He came in here begging for a job because everyone one else he looked at for a job turned him down because he was so inexperienced and lacked common sense. I took him for pity. Now I know why no one wanted to hire him."

I disguised a laugh as a cough, but Uncle Tim raised his eyebrows knowing exactly what I've done.

"Oh, he's in big trouble now," Uncle Tim said gruffly.

"You're not going to do anything horrible to him are you?" I tried feigning interest. "Maybe you should just not do anything. The people from the classroom are bound to tell other teachers who are going to tell Hank what a big mistake he made. Then he's going to be frightened at the both of us."

"You're point?"

I took a deep breath. "Well, if you just yell at him Uncle, then he's going to think I tattled on him or something. And then he's going to feel like he's going to have to give me A's—when we both know I could get them myself."

"So, you want me to do nothing, for your reputation's sake?" he sounded amused.

I laughed. "Not _mine_. Yours. I mean, wouldn't it sound weird that you yelled at him and then suddenly your close niece starts getting A's?"

"But you always get A's," he retorted relaxing into his big leather chair.

I sprawled myself on the leather cough toying with a pillow in my hands. "I know, but you know how people talk."

He just nodded his head. "You should stay here for a while then. Just do your homework or something and return to class if you want."

Meaning: you can stay here for an extensible period of time and then possibly go back to your class unless I can find you a useful errand.

That's the beauty of being the Principal's niece. I can do unimaginable tasks. That and I have an unbelievably cool uncle. And perhaps the fact that I can ace just about any class easily has something to do with that as well. I get most of my teacher's plans from my uncle anyway. And he requests classwork and homework to him so he can 'okay' it. They catch on for a while, but what surprises me is that no one really cares or bothers to defy my abusive power. I think that has to do with the whole death-of-mother-in-front-of-me issue. That's why I only have a couple of friends and one best friend; the rest are too freaked out to know what to say to me.

"Already ahead of you," I held up all of today's assignments and started scribbling furiously on my lap.

But after fifteen minutes, I grew bored and reached into my backpack for my old battered copy of Wuthering Heights. It's a twisted book with twisted characters. I love it. I mean, it has to do with a bunch of twisted people who make a lot of horrible choices. But after of all that hate, pain, and death there is a speck of hope in the end that makes it all better. Just a speck that keeps everyone going on. What a lovely speck it is.

There was a knock at the door before Lynn opened it gingerly. I barely lifted my head at the sound, but I listened carefully to see what she's was going to say only half-concentrating on my book now.

"Principal Swan? There's some new students and their mother here to see you," Lynn said with an odd tone.

I could just picture her face with the tone I've heard plenty of times. She was obviously trying to stay calm, but she was annoyed with the overly protective parents who march in here everyday demanding to see Uncle Tim. Only a few are allowed to get in. I could just see all of her features smooth and almost blasé but her eyebrow would be twitching just so. I used think it was hilarious if it wasn't for a fact that I'd played secretary for a day when she was absent and I don't find it as funny anymore.

"Send them in," Uncle Tim said in his business voice once more. I hate the business voice. It losses all aspects of his playfulness and character and replaces it with a deep intimidating booming voice that burned your ears.

A frazzled looked mother with her caramel colored-hair flying in every direction. It looked as if she attempted to put it in a bun earlier, but the hair had escaped that fancy trap. Hm. My hair does similar things if I don't monitor it carefully. She pulled in with her an average looking guy with the messy bronze just-got-out-of-bed look that used quite a bit of gel, an older looking boy with intimidating muscles, and a petite pixie-like girl with short spiky hair. I saw that the mother forced the bronzed-haired one into a chair almost abusively and sat down next him looking at my uncle with hectic blue eyes.

"Hello Principal," she looked at the golden nameplate at the desk. "Swan. Principal Swan. I'm Mrs. Cullen this is is my daughter Alice and my sons Emmett and Edward. We just moved from the east coast."

"The east coast hm? That's quite a distance from Forks," my uncle chuckled still in his business voice.

Her laugh was panicky. "Oh yes. I know. And I'm afraid that they might have a hard time adjusting to the drastic change. And then Edward started acting up earlier—"

"Mom!" her son, Edward apparently, interrupted his mother's frantic words. I could see, from my view, the tips of his ears turning pink.

I couldn't help but snicker.

All five head flew in my direction with separate expressions. My uncle was slightly furious at my reaction, even though I knew he wanted to laugh as well with the slight twinkle in his eyes. The woman looked like she saw a ghost. She was obviously still disorientated with the move and was probably is having a case of jet lag. The bronze-haired guy though, his face was twisted in embarrassment, fury, and surprise. The girl however eyed me carefully, before she broke out into a bright smile and the other boy just grinned at me.

I buried my nose into my book hiding a smirk. "Don't mind me," I mumbled into the book. "I'm just a mere Principal's Assistant." An excuse I've used a number of times. Hell, I might as well be one since I spend most of my time in here running errands and doing work here.

"I see," she turned back to Uncle Tim. "I was just wondering if you can help me with Edward's schedule. You see, he has the same class for all periods and apparently he didn't get his locker a couple days ago, and I was wondering if you can possibly help with that?"

"Of course. Bella, my Principal's Assistant, can help with that. Bells, I expect you to escort him to his class and show him around the school. I'll excuse you from all of your classes Bella," he said with a glint of humor in his eyes, but his face was grave serious.

Ugh. I guess he's found that stupid errand for me to run. Stupid. _Stupid_! I should have stayed quiet so I could have just read my book and go on with my day like I normally do. But _no_, this new kid has to come along and ruin things. I think it's just the new kid part. I mean, my day was going just great until the new teacher got PO'ed and sent me here. Then this new kid shows up with his mom and makes me follow him around school because his ears turned pink and I laughed.

"Seriously?!" I stood up dropping my book on the carpet floor with a loud thud.

He nodded gravely.

I stood up, leaving my things, and walked to the door mumbling things unintelligibly. I think they heard me because Ms. Edward's Mom, Ms. Pixie, Mr. Macho, and Mr. Pink-Ears gave me a look that clearly questioned my sanity and Uncle Tim looked at me warningly.

"Come on," I grumbled. "Let's go, shall we?"

The boy murmured something into his mother's ear who said something that caused him to say something back with what looked like an attitude. The mother scolded him silently causing the boy to collect his stuff and grumble something harshly at his mom.

The other two didn't looked troubled at all and headed for their classes that had started. I'm assuming their mother forced them to come with her even though their schedules and lockers were perfectly in tact.

I winced, clenching my jaw, as I leaned against the wooden frame trying to fight the sudden wave of emotions trying to overcome me. I saw Uncle Time giving me a worried look, but I ignored it and walked out the door. It was about time when the numbing feeling overtook me.

"Hey, aren't you going to give me a locker or something?" he asked me. There was some leftover edginess in his voice that wasn't directed at me.

"You don't even have a locker?" I groaned internally. Why me?

"Didn't you hear my mom at all?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Your point?" I looked up at him. I was surprised at his height. He must have been taller than six five. So he towered me at my measly five foot four.

"From the other side of the country," he said with a smirk on his face.

I sighed. "Fine, whatever."

I walked over to Lynn's desk and leaned over it to see whatever she was typing so furiously on it. My legs flew into the air so fast that I nearly missed Edward's head. I really have to work on my aim.

"Are you _trying_ to kill me?" he asked with a smirk. He was obviously over the dispute he had with his mom.

"Maybe," I looked over my shoulder.

I turned back to Lynn all business. "Who's off?" I asked in a serious tone.

Lynn scanned the room quickly. "Morton. Coffee break, you have exactly forty-three minutes and thirty-nine seconds."

I nodded, and dropped down from the desk. I creped my way to Counselor Morton's office watching out for him, even though I know just as well as everyone else that he's having his coffee break in the janitor's closet with one of the front office ladies. _Very_ kinky.

I skipped my way to the desk, tripping in the process, but thankfully I caught myself before I fell flat on my face. I sat in his large plush chair as I woke up the monitor. I typed in the password easily. And then started going through a number of files until I found the one I wanted.

"You don't look like Mr. Morton," Edward said as he observed the name plate on the desk.

I rolled my eyes staying focused on my work. "Why thank you captain obvious. I'm not Mr. Morton. But I _am_ getting your schedule. And . . ." I clicked the print button that was on the screen. The printer to the side hummed to life while it spat out Edward's schedule. "Voilà! Your new schedule!"

He took it into his hands and eyed it carefully. "Impressive. But what are you going to do about my locker?"

I sighed. "You can't be happy with what you got?"

He stared at me with a smirk playing at his lips.

"Okay fine, whatever," I grumbled.

I typed furiously trying to find any available locker. There wasn't any. Not even a freshman locker. Which is strange because we don't have a lot of students here in Forks.

"Um, well . . ." I started off. Then I heard a muffled voice outside. I strained my eyes to hear the conversation.

"Mr. Morton, but your coffee's almost all gone!" Lynn said panicky.

"_Shit!_" I hissed.

"It's fine Lynn, I'll survive with a half-empty cup of coffee."

"Oh, Mr. Morton! You can't go on saying that the cup's half_ empty_! What are the kids supposed to say when they hear that?" she forced a nervous laugh.

I exited out of everything and shut down the monitor quickly.

"Is that—?"

I cut off Edward by grabbing him by his arm and shoving him into the closet. Or at least, It's meant to be a closet, but it's just a small square with a lot of boxes. I suddenly realized how _close_ I was to Edward. I was pressed up against him, and he was against me. I could feel the heat radiating from his chest. And why was it that I was getting this strange tingly feeling from just _touching_ him? It started from the tips of hair down to my toes. This is insane.

I fought a blush, and tried to put some space between us. But I could only get an inch away from him, and it wasn't enough because in some places we were still touching. I refused to look up at his face. Instead I turned my body around so I could look for an exit. I found it. A window—who puts a window in a closet? I spied a box and stepped on it trying to get closer to my only escape.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asked eyeing me while I jumped on the box trying to reach the window.

"Unlike _someone_, I'm trying to find a way out of this place," I almost reached it, by like two feet.

"I can see that," he smirked. "But you're not going to get anywhere like that. Here, let me help you."

He grabbed me by the waist and lifted me a couple feet off the ground. My eyes popped open. He just lifted me off the _floor_ like I was Skipper, the little fluffy dog Charlie found me. But it was more effective than me jumping on top of the box. But I could just feel my face growing red hot at his touch, I really have to work on that. My hand reached the window and I wretched it open quickly as possible.

"Got it," I whispered.

"That's great," he murmured. "But now you're going to have to jump out of it."

"What?!" I looked down at him. "Are you insane?! Why don't you throw yourself out the window?"

He looked amused in the poorly lit room. "Because, I can't fit through the window," he used his head to indicate the window because his hands were full.

"Fine, but I—!"

I was too late. Edward already shoved me out the window. I fell on the ground with a hard plopping sound. Arg! My butt hurts. I stood up, slowly. The whole entire bottom part of my body was completely sore from impact. That's just great. I slowly started rubbing my aching bottom.

I heard a stifled laughter from the window.

My head shot up, glaring at him. "Fine, be that way. I'll just leave you in there then," I grumbled. I started walking with no destination in mind.

"Bella," I skidded to a stop at the sound of my name coming from his mouth. I have no idea why my heart started this weird thumping sound. It was just a voice, saying _my_ name. "Come on Bella! _Please!_ You can't just leave me here," he pleaded. He face looked so innocent that I almost believed him, until I looked into his eyes and saw humor in them.

"Fine!" I grumbled. "But you owe me."

I walked around the building before he could say anything else. I headed back through the doors that I entered what felt like seconds ago. The women at the front desk gave me this odd look; they probably remembered me coming inside and not coming out. Oops. I walked past them, ignoring the peculiar looks I was receiving and knocked on Mr. Morton's open door.

He looked up briefly and smiled a sympathetic smile. Ugh! Those eyes! He was giving me those _eyes_.

"Hello Isabella," I winced at the use of my full name. "Are you here to talk to me about your mother . . . ?" he trailed off thinking that I was here for counseling—yeah, right.

"Um, no," I said too quickly. I hoped Edward didn't hear anything. I hated when people found out and then started acting completely different with me. "I'm here because I saw Ms. Matthews going into the printing room with the new guy." I got closer to him and said in a low voice, "I thought you should know."

He looked shocked for a second, and then panicked. He wasn't old. In fact he looked like he was in his late twenties, and he worked out frequently with these incredible blue eyes, not that I'm one for blue eyes, I tend to go for the green-eyed men myself—I'm being sarcastic. I don't date. At all.

"Um. Err. . . . Well, thank you Isabella," he got up quickly. "You just reminded me, I have to get . . . papers. In the printing room. Excuse me."

He scrambled out the door muttering something like, "Sophia" and "damn newbies." I giggled giddily, he fell for it!

I opened the door with a proud look on my face.

"Come on," I grabbed his hand and pulled him out the door. We headed in the opposite direction of Mr. Morton. We passed through the front desk and I ignored the suspicious looks the women were giving me. I closed the door

"I'm impressed," he said with this incredible lop-sided grin on his lips. Did I say incredible? I meant incredibly cocky half smile.

"Why?" I said looking into his . . . green eyes. "You didn't think I could do it?" I challenged.

"No, that's not it," he said shaking his head, his green eyes sparkling. "I just thought you were going to leave me there until that man leaves."

"And don't think I didn't consider it," I said rolling my eyes.

I then realized I was still holding his hand, and I dropped it like it was on fire. Which, ironically, it felt like it. Not that his hand was burning, but the touch . . . Ugh. I'm sounding like a big sap.

I started walking to my locker. Trying to remember if I've forgotten anything in there. I turned the combination and it clicked. I swung open the door easily searching for something, anything to keep me preoccupied.

"Um, that's nice you have your own locker," Edward commented leaning against the locker next to mine. "But I'd like to have one of my own."

"About that," I took out a random notebook from my locker. "There are none."

"What?!" he looked at me like I was joking. "You're serious, aren't you."

I nodded. "But you know you could just share one with your brother and sister."

"I can't," he said gravely. "When we came here to get all our stuff, Emmett and Alice got the last locker and their splitting it. They woman at the desk said for me to check the first day of school to see if someone left and had a vacant locker."

"Well, that sucks," I said conversationally.

"Tell me about it," he grumbled with his head in his hands.

I don't know why I did it. Maybe I felt sorry for the guy or something, but then I said, "You know, we can share one. For now. You know, if you want. Until you can get your own I mean."

He lifted his head up from his hands. "Seriously?" he was looking for the punchline.

"Yes seriously," I rolled my eyes. I tore a piece of paper from my notebook and a pen from inside my locker. "Here's the combination, and the locker number if you forget. Just don't leave any clothes or food in there," I warned him.

"So I can't use this to keep my dirty socks?" he joked.

I could help but laugh.

"Where you going?" he asked me. I turned around to see that he genuinely wanted to know where I was going.

I shrugged. "The library I guess."

"Don't you have class young lady?" he scolded playfully.

I think I might get used to him, he's not incredibly horrible to be around. He might be fun to hang out with.

I made a face. "I'll pass."

He just laughed at my expression. "Fine, but can you at least show me around. Me being new and all," he flashed me a smile showing his ultra-white teeth.

Dazed for a second. I obliged. I took his schedule from his hand.

I looked at him skeptically. "Seriously?" I laughed at Edward's fourth period. It was good old Hank Beail.

"What?" he looked over my shoulder to see what I saw, his face was inches away from mine.

"You gave class with my buddy. I'm coming with you," I smirked, looking at his confused green eyes. "Come on."

I walked through the halls, turning at the right places. Edward had to slow down his pace to keep up with me. It wasn't my fault that my legs weren't as long as his. We were standing in front of Beail's classroom. I tilted my head studying the closed door carefully.

I could see Edward from the corner of my eye, looking at me oddly then turning his torso to the door and tilting his head just so, mimicking my actions perfectly.

"Why are we doing this?" he asked me with a smile on his face.

I turned towards him. I stood on my tippy-toes to try and look him in the eye. "It's called savoring the moment."

He just laughed. "Because . . . ?"

"You'll see," I grinned mischievously.

I walked up to the door, and rapped on it sassily. Not waiting for an answer, I opened the door anyway. Mr. Beail was in the middle of a lecture and didn't even bother looking up. I cleared my throat and then he whipped his head in my direction. I gave him the most dazzling smile I could scrounge up.

"Hello there, Mr. Beail," I grinned. I walked over to one of the empty desks—conveniently there were only two empty ones right next to each other. Edward was behind me, following me reluctantly.

"Ms. Swan? What are you doing here? You're supposed to be at the Principal's office, or at _home_." he said furiously.

I placed my notebook on the desk and sat down with my legs crossed. "Well, I did go to the Principal's office, thank you. You have little faith in me," I sighed melodramatically. "And I'm here as the official Principal's Assistant on my official Principal's Assistant's duties." I pointed my thumb and mouthed, "New guy."

"Somehow, I don't believe that," he glared at with with narrow eyes.

"Actually Mr. Beails," I was surprised to hear that it was Edward's voice who was defending me. "She's telling the truth. I'm Edward Cullen—I'm new."

"Somehow, I'm skeptical," he said unassumingly. "I do not remember an Edward Cullen on the role list."

"Of course you wouldn't! I had to fix his schedule. Its probably not registered on your computer yet." I still had Edward's schedule so I walked up to the front of the classroom and handed him the paper. "See, Edward Cullen. Right there. Check your computer, unless you want me to do it for you."

"I can manage," he said. He walked over to the computer. He woke up the computer and typed in his username for the school's database and was about to type in his password when he looked at me and said, "Do you mind?"

I grumbled, "It's not like I don't know your password anyways."

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing," I flashed an innocent smile and turned around.

I loved how the entire class ignored the new teacher. The popular people started gossiping and eying the new kid seeing if he was worthy of their manicured claws. Then the socially challenged people stared as at Mr. Beails' and my conversation—Edward was one of them. I was surprised that Rosalie Hale was doing the same. Ms. Rosalie. Queen Bee, the top of the social ladder, the 'Mean Girl,' little miss popular, and whatever other generic name you'd like to call her. She was staring at me disapprovingly, but I could tell she was trying to hide the amusement from her sparkling blue eyes. I wonder why she isn't gossiping with her friends about Edward, that's what she usually does.

After he pressed eleven keys, I knew to turn around because he was done typing his password. I watched he searched through the databases for Edward's name. He found it, but he only found Edward's old schedule with P.E. For all six periods.

"I'm sorry Ms. Swan, but he's not in this class. And do you know how much trouble you can get into for plagiarizing school paperwork," he scolded.

I ignored him and asked, "Do you mind?"

"What—?" he stared at me like I was insane.

"Just sign out, _please_. Then watch." I saw the incredulous look in his eyes. "Please, can you trust me? For just a second."

He glared at me.

"Okay, whatever. Call the Principal's office after I do this one thing, just let me do it to prove to you that Edward's in this class," I said as convincingly as I could.

"Fine, you have six minutes," he eyed me distrustfully.

"That's all I need."

I typed in my official account: PAISABELLAS. I typed in my extremely complex password: myunclerox. Okay, I didn't choose it. My uncle made it up for me. The twins' have similar accounts with the same password except theirs is mydadissohip. So I'm grateful. I knew the files to go to, so the whole process went relatively fast.

"See," I pointed at the screen. "Beails, fourth period. Cullen, A. M. Edward."

His eyebrows furrowed together. "How do I know this is legitimate?" he asked still doubting me. This man has serious anger _and_ trust issues.

I sighed. "You're account is lower in the school pyramid. It's below the Counselors and Office ladies. So yours would be the last one for system updates. _That's_ why Edward isn't registered in this class according to _your_ computer."

"But he's in yours because . . . ?" he asked.

"Because! Dude, look at my title! _Principal's_ Assistant. I have my own account because one, the big guy trusts me." He started walking to the phone and dialing the Principal's number, but I just went on with my list as if I didn't notice. "Two, I need all this information for my PA duties. And three, I'm responsible."

"Hello?" he said into the phone ignoring me. What a bastard. "Hi Lynn."

"Tell Lynn I said hi!" I shouted loud enough for Lynn to hear me.

I could tell that she heard me because Mr. Beail's face turned from cocky and smug to upset and embarrassed.

"Um. Okay," he said with his eyebrows practically touching each other because his face so was scrunched up. "She wants to talk to you."

I reached my hand out from the chair. He looked at it in disbelief, but placed it there anyway.

"_Hellloooo_?" I made a big show of answering the phone.

"You owe me big time," Lynn laughed over the phone.

I grinned. "I know. But I always make up for it, don't I?"

"Of course you do," I could practically see her rolling her eyes at me. "Your uncle told me to give you two messages."

"Okay," I nodded unconsciously. I noted how she said uncle and not _Principal._

"He wants to tell you that your Dad is working all weekend for an extremely difficult case at the station and your sleeping over at their house."

I grimaced. He still thinks of me as a kid even though we both know I can take care of myself. I guess it comes with the territory I guess. He also won't let me or his daughter date. I mean, he has a large influence on that because he _is _the Principal and everything. Not like it stops her from dating anyhow.

"And he wants you to tell his daughter that she has to wear another jacket for the rest of the day," her tone was displeased.

"Which one?" I asked knowing exactly which jacket she was talking about.

"Which one do you think?" Lynn said disapprovingly.

"She'll kill me," I groaned. And she would. It's strange. We never had the best relationship ever, but she still talks to me to a certain degree. Even at school which is even stranger.

Lynn laughed. "Good luck."

"Can you get me through to the Principal?" I asked her, watching an impatient Hank.

"Sorry," her voice was amused. "He's in a meeting."

"No he's not," I rolled my eyes. "He's got nothing planned."

"Sorry honey," she sighed.

"Okay Lynn, I'll see you later," I said.

"Goodbye sweetie," and she hung up the phone.

I sat up and placed the phone on the receiver. I sat back down on the chair and whipped out my cell.

"Why did you hang up the phone on the Principal?!" Hank Beails demanded turning a strange purplish color. "And put your cellphone away!" he bellowed.

I pressed speed dial five and listened for the dial tone. "Do you want to speak to the Principal or what?" I snided to him.

"You're going to be in so much trouble young lady—!" he warned pointing his finger at me. Hadn't his mother taught him that pointing fingers is rude?

"Bella?" my uncle asked. He sounded carefree, but puzzled to why I'm calling him when I'm supposed to be 'on the job.'

"Hello Mr. Principal, Chief sir!" I said for Hank's benefit.

"Bella . . . Why are you calling me. During school hours. While you have an assignment?" he questioned me.

"Well, Mr. Principal sir, I was doing my assignment, when this teacher, _Mr. Beails_," I emphasized. I heard a deep rumbling sound on the other end. "Didn't believe my authority. He thought I was plagiarizing fraud! And a bad seed!" I said sounding hurt, which I was.

He laughed. "You? Plagiarizing _and_ a bad seed?" he repeated in disbelief.

"I know!" I exclaimed. Putting my feet on the desk.

Hank had past the red phase and the purple phase and was heading to the blue phase. I was worried he might combust on the floor right now and I'll be the one to clean up the mess.

"Um? I think he wants to talk to you," I said, losing all signs of confidence.

"Put him on," Uncle Tim lost all signs of playfulness.

"Don't do anything rash," I repeated myself from earlier.

"Isabella," he commanded.

I gulped.

I covered the microphone and said, "He's mad."

"He should be!" Hank let out the breath of air he must have been holding.

I shook my head. "Not at me, _you._"

He looked at me dubiously.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," I murmured handing him the phone.

"Principal Swan! I—" I could hear that he was cut off by my uncle's screams of fury.

I winced at the intensity.

Hank paled suddenly. He lost all traces of authority and became a weak little kitten in a matter of seconds. Uncle Tim has that way of intimidating people.

"Um. Okay sir, I will. Uh-huh. Okay," he said quietly in defeat. He snapped the phone abruptly shut and turned to me with a furious expression. "I'm confiscating this for use on school property without permission."

I nodded my head apathetically. "Sure. Can I go to my seat now?"

"You aren't in this class," he said, clearly wanting me out.

"But Principal Swan told me to, and I quote, 'escort him to his class and show him around the school.' And I absolutely do _not_ ever back down on my word," I looked into his eyes waiting for some sort of challenging response or behavior, but there was none.

"Fine." He's given up! "But not a word or else you _both_ are out of here for the day."

"Yes sir!" I mocked saluted him, winking. "Not a word, Hank Beail sir!"

As much as I just wanted to relish the moment, I headed back to my original seat and slumped into it. I started to doodle random things, as Beail rambled about respect lacking in modern day societies. He tried to tie it to Spanish, but did a poor job at that. And even though I wanted to make a slight remark on it, I held back my tongue. I put this man through enough for the day.

The bell rang, indicating lunch, and I walked over to the teacher's desk.

"Hank," I said. I took pity in this man. I really did. I tore a piece of paper from my notebook. "On here contains the serial code of a pocket knife that Uncle Timmy, or Principal Swan, has wanted forever. He likes Cuban cigars. Likes imported bears and Jack Daniel's whiskey. He has diabetes so no sweets or sugar. But give him Perrier water, but not Pellegrino—he hates Pellegrino. But he loves vanilla ice cream with lots of chocolate sauce. But it has to be sugar-free ice cream, but real Hersey's chocolate sauce. And he likes fancy pens. Don't forget to mention something about the military. My grandpa was in the military—coast guard. And in case you didn't get it all, it's on the slip of paper."

"But what?" he asked in disbelief, he was holding the paper too tight it might turn into shreds.

"Hey there, don't ruin that, it has top secret information," I said jokingly.

"But _why?_" he asked in disbelief.

"What? Do you, like, _not _want this job? Because if that's the case, I want that piece of paper back," I held my hand out knowing he wasn't going to put it in there.

"You were so hellbent on firing me," he said trying to make sense of my actions.

"I wasn't, you were just acting like an ass," I scoffed.

He looked at me warningly.

"No offense," I held my hands up, in a sign of peace. "But you were."

Edward chuckled at my side. I forgotten that he was even there.

"Well, Hank, I've gotta go and have lunch," I said. "See ya, tomorrow!"

I was walking out the door with Edward at my heels.

"It's Mr. Beail!" he called out.

"Sure Hank!"

Edward was eying me oddly.

"What?" I turned towards him.

"You're one strange girl, you know that?" he said with a smile.

"Um, thanks. I think," I muttered.

Even though it was raining, as usual, I stood under a tree where it had a bit of a shielding from the rain. I sat on the squishy earth, not caring if I soiled my pants or not.

"It's not a bad thing," he said sitting next to me on a drier piece of grass. Now why hadn't I seen that?

"Uh-huh," I said, bringing my legs up to my chest.

He was still looking at me weird, so I had to turn to see his face.

"Why are you still here?" I asked.

"Well, I don't really know where else to go," he chuckled, playing with a leaf between his fingers.

"Your brother?" I suggested.

"Emmett brings to much attention too himself," Edward said with a smirk.

"Really?" my voice dripping with sarcasm.

Edward just laughed. "I know, it's such a surprise."

"And the girl?" I asked once more.

He shrugged. "I wouldn't know where to look for her," he answered truthfully.

"Uh-huh."

"And my mom would want to hear that I made new friends to day," he said with a twinkle in his eye.

I raised an eyebrow. "So I'm your excuse for your mother?" I repeated trying to understand him.

"Exactly," he grinned.

"Oh thanks," I said sarcastically.

"Can I use your phone for a second?" I asked him.

"Sure," he reached into his front pocket and pulled out a sleek new phone and tossed it to me.

I had to reach to make sure I didn't drop it—I wasn't exactly known for my hand-eye-coordination.

I opened it and started texting my cousin her message from her dad: its bella. ur dad said 2 pt on ano/ jcket. Dnt kill the mssngr. I sent it. I quickly deleted the number and message before handing it back to him.

"Thanks," I smiled weakly at him.

"No prob," he grinned back.

The silence was nice. It wasn't awkward in the least. It was . . . peaceful. But I decided that we should better go before the wet ground soaks all the way through my pants.

"Well, come on," I said. "Let's look for your sister. We can't do it unless we actually look for her."

I hoisted myself up by the tree trunk. Edward smoothly stood up waiting for me to get up completely. I didn't like the way my pants felt. They were too wet. I twisted myself to see if I could see if there was a wet spot on my backside. Of course, I couldn't.

My thoughts were interrupted by Edward's roaring laughter.

"What?!" I said glaring at him.

"You look like an idiot," he gasped between laughs.

"Yeah, thanks, _again_," I sighed. "Is there anything on my butt?" I asked him honestly. I wasn't one of those whores who do this thing for attention or for some guy to check her out. I just want to know if I have some sort of crap on my ass.

Edward cocked his head to the side and laid his eyes on my derrière for a little too long. I shoved down the blush coming to my cheeks.

"Is there anything on there?" I repeated the question again since I got no answer.

Edward raised his head with one side up his mouth pulled up. "You have a lot of brown stuff on your butt."

"What?!" I shrieked.

He checked again.

"Yup. All over," he laughed again.

"That's not funny!" I exclaimed. I crossed my arms frustrated. "What am I supposed to do know?!"

I was going over about a dozen ways to try and fix aloud, when I saw a headful of blonde hair and a tall lean body looking slightly lost walking around in what looking like circles. I broke out into a grin when I saw who it was.

Forgetting about my current derrière's state and rushed up to him. I practically tackled him down, squealing.

"Where have you been Bella?" he asked me annoyed. "I've been looking for you _everywhere_."

"Hank Beail took away my phone," I grumbled, tightening my arms around his neck so I wouldn't fall.

He chuckled. "It's only the first week, Bella."

"So?" I looked at him defiantly. "It's also a Friday. But what does that have to do with anything?"

"You got in trouble the _first_ week," he said with a grin.

"Did not!" I gasped feigning shock. "I would so not get in trouble."

He looked at me with a smirk. "Right."

"Bella, why is your whole back wet?" he pried my arms off of his neck.

"It's raining genius," I put my arms on my hips.

"Um, I'm sure the rain isn't brown, Bella," he was trying to contain his laughter now.

"So?!" I said defensively. An ingenious idea stroke me. I don't know why I didn't think about it before. It was absolutely perfect!

"Give me your pants," I held my hands out waiting.

"What?!" he looked at me as if I was insane.

"Come on, give me your pants!" I said once more putting more emphasis on pants.

Someone cleared their throat.

I turned around expecting a teacher, but it was only Edward, drenched in the rain. Both were staring at me intently for some sort of explanation. It was obvious that Edward saw our embrace, but I hope he didn't take it the wrong way. Assumptions are a horrible way to start things out.

"Oh! Um. Edward, this is Jasper Hale. Jazz, this is Edward Cullen," I said.

Jasper put a protective arm around me. It was uncomfortable and wet, but I knew better than to force it off.

"Now," I ignored the tense atmosphere. "Jazz, give me your pants."

"You're insane," he looked down at me incredulous.

"Jazz, did you drive today?" I asked him.

"Nope," he said, not loosening his arm.

"Um. Okay, then. I'll give you a ride later," I said lamely.

"I think that's Alice over there," Edward indicated with his head. "I'll go and catch up with her. See ya Bella."

"I. Um. Edward! Wait, Jasper is—!" I tried calling out, but he already left.

I frowned at Jasper getting out of his grasp. "I hope your happy," I said gruffly.

"I am," he grinned at me. "Oh, come on Bella. You know I'm only doing that because I love you."

I narrowed my eyes at Jasper. "There are no words," I grumbled walking away from him.

Jasper just followed easily. "Oh come on Bells, you're not really mad at me."

I stopped to glare at him.

"Fine. Okay. Whatever. Just leave me to walk _all _the way home," he pouted his lower lip slightly.

"I hate you," I muttered.

Jasper grinned. "Does that mean I get a ride home?" he asked innocently.

"If your late, I'm leaving you," I grumbled.

"Your the best," Jasper hugged me tightly.

The bell rang and he released me. I headed towards the office again.

"Are you even going to class today?" he asked.

"Well, I was supposed to chase Edward around all day because he's _new_ and all. But you made him leave, so I'm going to see what his next class is so I can track him down," my anger towards Jasper was fading.

He winced. "Sorry about that."

"It is your fault," I pursed my lips together.

"I'll make it up to you, I swear! Please Bella, forgive me!" he pleaded.

"Well . . ." I tapped my finger to my chin. "There's one thing . . ."

"I like these pants," he narrowed his eyes at me, with a protective hand on his jeans.

I giggled.

"No, not that. But I do want my phone back," I said mischievously.

"Okay, what's the room number?" he asked.

I gave it to him.

"Okay, I'll give it to you after school, before you drop it off."

"You better," I threatened weakly.

He laughed, leaving for class.

I headed back to the office. My uncle wasn't in his office—he was probably still at lunch—but I went in his room regardless. From my backpack on the floor where I left it, I took out my laptop and turned it on. I waited as it vibrated to life. I typed in my password for the computer and quickly signed in to the school's database quickly. I found Edward's schedule easily since it was third time I had to look for it today. He had Banner, Biology II. Hmm. That's weird. I have that class now. Well, I guess I'm going to have to go to class after all.

I left the office without a sound. I slung my backpacker over one shoulder and headed out for Banner's class. But first thing is first. I have to find the new kid. I've never not finished my PA's assignments before and I'm not going to start now.

It was surprisingly easy to find Edward. He was wandering around the hallways uninterested in finding Banner's class.

"Hey!" I called out. I ran up to him trying to catch up. Either, Edward didn't heard me and just happen to decide to walk really fast right then or he heard me and doesn't want a thing to do with me right now. And I can't blame him with the way Jasper treated him.

"Edward, hold up," I tripped on a crack on the floor and fell, catching myself with my hands. I positioned myself so that I was sitting down, while I observed my hands. They were only moderately scratched up, nothing serious.

Edward must have heard or seen me fall because he stopped at looked at my hand with concern. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, I've been through worse," I muttered. Honestly, I could hardly feel the pain.

"Good," his eyes turned cold as he began to walk away.

"Wait!" I grabbed Edward's jeans. He looked down at me with a raised eyebrow. "My job was to show you around the school for the rest of the day, and I intend to do that."

He looked at me strangely. "Are you sure your boyfriend won't mind you following me around all day."

I bursted into a hysterical fit of laughter.

He frowned.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I know, it's weird, but Jazz's is _so_ not my boyfriend!" I wiped the tears from my face.

"Really? The way he was looking at me and the way he was touching you made me think otherwise," he looked at me, still unbelieving.

I tilted my head to the side. "Looking at you and touching me, how exactly?"

"Like he was yours and I was trespassing," he said gruffly. I guess he didn't find it as amusing as I did.

I rolled my eyes. "Jasper . . . ," I grumbled. I tried to explain, "He's a little touchy."

"Now that's an understatement," he scoffed bitterly. I don't know why he was acting like that. He was completely different before Jasper.

"Come on, let's go to to class. It's no big deal," I tried convincing him.

His face changed suddenly, one minute he looked murderous anger, and then the next strangely calm. Too calm. The sudden apathetic disposition was too good to be true; was he schizophrenic or something? Oh god. That is just typical of me to get stuck with a schizo. Just my luck.

"You're right," he said, again way too calmly. "Let's go to class."

Edward brushed by me heading for the classroom. I followed his footsteps trying in vain to keep up. I couldn't of course. He didn't even give me a chance to. By the time I reached the door he was already inside talking to Mr. Banner.

Mr. Banner looked up expectantly. "Well, I'm glad to see that you've graced us with your presence," Mr. Banner remarked. I guess my reputation of missing classes repeatedly proceeds me.

I grimaced. "Um, yeah. Hi."

"Well, you and Edward are going to sit over there," he pointed to the two vacant seats. Together. At the same table. Together. How inconveniently convenient. "Since you two are the last ones here and all. I hope you'll enjoy your seats for the rest of the year."

"Seriously?" I said skeptically. "The whole year?"

Mr. Banner grinned. "Seriously."

I grumbled to myself sitting in one of the empty seats. Edward did the same, but he scooted his chair, audibly, away from me. He kept his eyes forward the whole time. Considering how I already finished the work for this class I didn't really feel the need to actually pay attention. So instead of doing that, I looked for Wuthering Heights but it wasn't it my backpack. So I spent the rest of the time pondering the exact location of where I might of placed it.

"Bella," an irritated voice called me.

"Yes," I looked up, probably with a dreary expression.

Edward was standing overhead looking at me exasperatedly running a hand through his hair.

"I thought you were supposed to be the one taking care of me," I could tell he was trying to fight a grin. A grin. A grin is good. That means I'm almost completely forgiven.

"Right," I sat up straight banging my knee on the the wooden part of the black table. "Damn it!" I clenched my teeth together to prevent other swear words from coming out.

"Nice," Edward commented. He broke out into a laugh.

I narrowed my eyes. "You think that's funny? You think that's funny, don't you?" I stomped away trying to get away from Edward. It was a pity that he kept following me. I liked him better when he was mad because he didn't feel the need to walk next to me laughing at my pounding knee.

"I'm sorry, that wasn't _that_ funny," he tried to keep a straight face. "Can I see your knee?"

"What?!" I stopped looking at his face. It was so sincere that my expression changed unwillingly. "Um. I . . . Err. Sure."

He bent down and touched it gingerly. I winced. He _tsked_.

"Well," he stood up to his full height, with humor back in his eyes. "I can see that your overreacting because it's just a minor bruise."

"So? It still hurts," I looked away from him and started walking. "What's you next class?" I asked, it was extremely hard for me not to look at him, no matter how much I wanted to.

"Phys Ed. It's unimportant," Edward said. "Come on, let's go somewhere else."

"And skip?" I couldn't help but to look at him.

He shrugged. "Yeah. And what do you call hiding in the office all day long?" he challenged me playfully.

I straightened up trying to be as tall as him, but it didn't work. He may not have been as tall as Jasper, but he still is a bit of a monster in the height department.

"It's called being a Principal's Assistant."

"Hm. So that's what they call it now?" he grinned. "Now let's go be Principal's Assistants else where shall we?"

"But I—" I was caught off guard when he pressed his finger to my lips, I completely froze into place.

"But, one period is meaningless," his voice was so smooth, that it was hard to say no.

"Fine," I gave in. "But where do you plan on taking me?"

"The only place I know," he grinned. We started walking and from the certain turns we took I knew exactly where we were going before we even reached it.

"The parking lot?" I said confused. "Why are you taking me to a parking lot?"

"Because that's where you _park_ a car," Edward laughed.

"I know that," I shoved my hands into my pockets. "But why are you taking me there."

"So we can hang out in my car—_dry_," he emphasized.

He did have a good point. Talking in the rain isn't the best thing to do. We walked to a silver Volvo. It was a nice car I guess, but a car none the less. Edward took out his keys hastily, wanting to get out of the cold rain as much as I did. He unlocked the doors with ease and I followed his example of going in the car. He turned the keys in the ignition and flicked on the heater.

It was quiet for a little while. Neither of us knowing what to say or where to start. So I just stared out the window listening to the rain patter against the window leaving drops against it. I used my finger to trace light patterns around each of them.

"Don't you ever get tired of just sitting there all day with that bald man?" he asked suddenly. I was surprised at the sound of his voice and how it gave my body a strange reaction.

"That bald man," I gripped something in my pocket, annoyed. "Happens to be an awesomely cool _bald man_."

Edward just laughed. "Of course. But don't you ever want someone else's company?" he asked me genuinely.

"I have Lynn," I replied looking into his deep green eyes trying to make sense of what he was saying.

"Someone your age," he tried once more with a smile.

From the short conversation I didn't notice how close our faces had gotten. I could practically feel the heat radiating from his body. And the closes made me see the contours of his face more closely. His nose was straight for the most part, but it was slightly crooked. It was such an intricate detail, that you had to be up close to even realize it's existence. And his eyes had these golden flecks around the pupil. I could get lost staring into them.

"I have Jasper," I had to remember to answer.

Apparently it was the wrong thing to say because Edward retreated his head. "Ah, dear, dear Jasper."

"What does that supposed to mean?" I pulled back studying his angry features.

"Nothing, right?" he said almost accusingly.

"I don't have to deal with this," I gathered my stuff from my lap. "I'm leaving."

We glared at each other for a minute.

"Okay," his breath blew into my face.

"Okay," I opened the door, stood up, and slammed it with as much force as I had.

I walked in the rain looking for my truck. It was exactly where I left it. School must have gotten out sometime between Edward's and I's fight because Jasper was leaning leisurely against my truck. He grinned when he saw me.

"I was starting to think you forgot about me," he said.

I opened the door and leaned across the seat to unlock his side. Jasper slipped inside shaking his wet hair. I revved the engine aggressively.

"Whoa, someone's upset," Jasper observed.

"You have no idea," I grumbled.

Jasper filled the truck with mindless random chatter that I was thankful for. It eased the atmosphere immediately. Even though I was still mad, I was more relaxed knowing that Jasper was here. It had been like that since we were kids. Even in tough situations, Jasper had always had this way to calm me down and relax me, which isn't an easy task. He could also get us out of a lot of trouble by _charming_ people. Guys or girls. Straight or gay. It's an amazing talent that must come from Aunt Stacy's side of the family because I can't do that at all.

I drove to my house quickly getting everything that was necessary for spending the weekend with Uncle Tim. I already had my iPod, laptop, and phone—due to Jasper and his incredible talent of charming people. All I needed was my bag of necessities and clothes for a couple of days. It was easy and quick. I headed back to the tuck with only an extra duffel bag that I placed in between Jazz and I. That's when I started driving to Jasper's place and I would have to endear, yet again, another weekend with my Uncle Timothy and Aunt Stacy. They aren't horrible hosts or anything, but knowing them they probably have something cooked up for me to do. And I wasn't exactly ecstatic about whatever that something is.

* * *

Author's Note: Did you like it? I can't know unless you review. So press the pretty purplish button.


	2. Flashes

Warning: This chapter is slightly angsty. Just wanted you to know.

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, Stephenie Meyer does. I'm just playing with the characters, and their humanity.

Chapter 2 - Flashes

For the past six years, I've spent most of my time here. Occasionally, my uncle would let me sleep in my own house, but that was a rarity in itself. But he let's me and Skip—my dog—stay over all the time. Even though my mother and Charlie were divorced, he wfwipingafs still hopelessly in love with my mom. So, he took her death hard, burying himself in his work. That's what he usually did, go to the police station and work as Chief of Police Swan. Never Charlie Swan, Bella's father. Of course, occasionally, he'd be at home, but he's completely robotic when he is. Hardly showing any emotions—which he did previously, but it'd only gotten worse after the _incident_.

I walked past the living room and quickly went to one of the empty guest rooms that I've unofficially claimed as my own. Uncle Tim doesn't believe that I'm grown up enough for me to be alone at home—even though that's not the case—so I spend practically every weekend or the weekdays here. And it's not like I could just ask someone from school if I could crash at their place for a while. No one really talks to me. And I wish I could blame that on my mother's death, the fact that my uncle is the principle, or the other number of things that went wrong, but that's not it. I'm just not a really a people person. What a shocker, right?

I closed the door and tried quickly change into more comfortable leisure clothes. I dug through my duffel bag for the regular items: an oversized t-shirt and a pair of boxers. I found the boxers easily. I picked a random pair that happened to be my blue spongebob ones with yellow letterings that said, _Appearing live at the Bikini Bottom _on the back. Jasper gave them to me as a joke, how thoughtful, right? As I was sifting through my bag I found that I didn't have one of Charlie's old t-shirts I was always stealing them from him; not like he noticed anyway. I shoved the boxers over my regular underwear, and I slipped off my jacket and t-shirt, so I only had my tank top on.

I snuck my way into my cousin's room. He was bigger than me, bigger than Charlie, so his shirts would work perfectly. I opened his closet, sifting through all of his button down tees and his manly tank tops. I found a decent one, it was the Mariners shirt he bought a couple years ago that Aunt Stacy won't let him wear because there was a weird bleach stain on the left shoulder. I slipped it on over my tank top.

"Jazz!" I called from upstairs. I pulled the rubber tie from my hair, that I placed a couple hours ago, and let it fall against my shoulders. I fluffed it out so it wouldn't just lie flat against my head. "I'm using your Mariners Shirt!"

Yes, Jasper Hale is my cousin. Isn't that sad? My best friend, my only friend, is my boy cousin. I realize this doesn't make any sense. Even people at school don't get it. Some don't even realize that Jasper and Rosalie Hale are _directly_ related to Principle Swan like they do with me, but they are. You see, when Aunt Stacy was having these two, she was, _apparently_, so delirious from the pain of labor_s_ that she was insistent that her children bear her maiden name. It was a moment of feminism that I didn't think my aunt was ever capable of, considering she's the most girly girly ex-cheerleader, Ms. Popular, and Queen Bee—yeah, that's where Rose gets it. Plus, they are both blonde with blue eyes and don't have dark brown hair or eyes like their father does . . . used to . . . kinda has.

The doorbell rang, but I didn't mind it. It was probably one of my cousin's many admirers or friends. They come over constantly, coming and going as they pleased. And Uncle Time and Aunt Stacy didn't mind. Aunt Stacy missed her large family so she loved having a full house whenever the opportunity arrives. That's probably why I noticed that she was making a lot of food for just us five. Maybe she invited some of their friends over.

I started walking down the steps, ignoring whoever's company arrived. Whether it was one of Rosalie's many man candies, girls, or followers or Jazz's guy friends or fan girls I pretended like they weren't there like I usually do.

"Hi! Come in! Come in!" my aunt's cheery voice bubbled. It must be someone she knew then. _Darn it!_ Now I'm going to get in trouble for being 'unrepresentable' as both my uncle and aunt would say. They don't mind me dressing like this when it's just us, and they will barely tolerate it if it's one of Jasper's or Rose's friends, but they go completely ballistic if it's one of their guests.

"I'm Stacy Swan, and these are my kids: Jasper and Rosalie Hale. Tim is getting ready right now, but he'll be here in a minute. You must be Mr. And Mrs. Cullen," I could hear the smile in her forced cheeriness. I have to give my aunt her props. She's been doing the fake cheeriness since high school because of the cheerleading thing, so it's sounds so authentic, that I would almost believe it. Almost. But I could hear the slight hysteria in her voice.

Oh. My. God. _Cullen?_ As in _Cullen?_ As in Edward _Cullen?_ As in the _Cullen __Family_? Maybe this is some sort of sick coincidence.

I froze on the steps, with my eyes budging out of their sockets. This has to be some _sick_ joke Jasper cooked up. I right now, I could see Rose, Jazz, and Aunt Stace at the front door, but I couldn't see the Cullens because the door was blocking the way. The front stairs were on the side, out of the way, but I would be seen if they stepped out. Maybe I could sneak into my room, and then go down the other set of stairs that lead to the kitchen. That'd be the best thing to do.

"Jasper, Rose, will you show the Cullen Family around for a little while?" I could see the panic in my aunt's eyes. "I've got to check on dinner. It'd be nice if I could get a little help around here," her laugh was forced. It was joined in by two other sets of adult-like laughter.

Translation: Dinner is hardly finished and the guests are here. Why hasn't Bella came downstairs yet and helped like she normally does?

Aunt Stace stepped aside for them to come in, and she turned around to see me frozen at the stairs. She gave me a crazed look, silently demanding me to get changed, and _fast_. But I couldn't move. And when I could it was too late.

"Thank you for inviting us," a tall blonde who was a _highly_ attractive thirty-something year old man said.

"It's so kind of you inviting us last minute. And you probably have had plans," the same woman, from the office earlier said. She looked more polished than she did earlier. I noticed that she wasn't bad looking at all, her messy hair just drew all the attention away from her pretty features.

Wait a minute. That's not good. Then that means the last name _Cullen_, wasn't a coincidence at _all_.

"This is my eldest, Emmett," she pointed to the largest curly black haired one, who I already knew was Emmett. "And my youngest, Edward and then Alice."

"You have a lovely house Mrs. Swan," Alice commented, observing the house. Sure, it was one of the better sized and looking houses in Forks, but that's only because my aunt is some sort of heiress to some old wrinkly-guy who has _a lot_ of money. The guy—her father—was loaded. But my uncle, the bad boy all around cool guy, had won her heart and they had gotten married. Real sweet right?

"Sweet digs, Ma'am," Emmett held out his bear claw-like hand to shake my aunt's. I could see her eying it carefully as she placed her delicate hand inside of it.

I could see Mrs. Cullen nudge Edward. "It's a very nice house, Mrs. Swan," Edward said, smoothly. Even though the expression on his face, you could tell it was forced.

I took that as my sign to start getting clothes on before anyone sees me. I started slowly creeping up the steps as quietly as I could. My foot smacked into something hard, I'm assuming my other foot, and caused me to crash on the floor with an echoing _ka-thump!_

All of the heads whipped in my direction. I could feel each of their gazes boring onto my figure. I knew I had a couple of options. I could either stay on the floor, and pretend to be unconscious. Or I could get up and sneak away as I intended, and look completely idiotic. _Or_ I could get up, say hi, and quickly run and get changed. As tempting as the first option sounded, I decided to go with the third.

I stood up abruptly to look into two pairs of bemused eyes, one pair of furious eyes, three pairs of amusement, and two pairs of disbelief for two completely different reason. They all stared at me, and then their eyes drifted to my boxers. I ignored that, and plastered on a fake smile, and attempted a wave.

"Uh, hi," I tried avoiding eye contact with my aunt. "I'm, er . . . Bella. I'll be um . . . back."

I could see Jasper on the verge of bursting into laughter. I glared at him. I walked backwards, trying not the let the _Bikini Bottom_ part of my boxers show. I reached backwards for the door handle, and opened my door quickly. I closed it, pressing my back against the wall. My cheeks flushed a bright red as I started to feel the embarrassment wash over me. Then, slowly, I started feeling hollow. Lonely. Alone.

I forced those emotions down, and looked for a pair of jeans. I found a pair and slipped them over my boxers. They were slightly baggy, but stayed in place, so I didn't bother in getting a belt. I slipped off the Mariners shirt and put on my stripped black and gray jacket over my green _un_lacy tank top. I didn't even bother on zipping up the jacket. I looked in the mirror and sighed. I knew my aunt wouldn't approve of this at all. So I looked through my bag for anything 'presentable'. I found a pair of jeans that fitted correctly over my body and a plain cerulean blue crew cut shirt over my tank top, letting the green stick out in some places.

I opened the door, peaking to see if anyone was there. There wasn't. Good. I sighed in relief. I crept my way down the alternate staircase. My Aunt was in the kitchen frantically trying to get dinner ready. She seemed to be mashing the potatoes, frying the green beans, putting the garlic bread in the oven, and checking the roast all at once. I was surprised at the speed and the accuracy such a tiny woman can have.

"Finally Bells!" she sighed exasperatedly, while wiping her forehead causing some mashed potatoes on her forehead. "Good. You changed," she nodded in approval. "Come on, you can start on desert."

"What do you want me to make?" I asked looking in the refrigerator for any ingredients for me to use.

"I was thinking apple pie," Aunt Stacy pulled the bread out of the oven and went back to tending the potatoes.

"Cool," I pulled out the grated knife and starting cutting the garlic bread into rectangular pieces. "Frozen?"

She smiled at me sheepishly. "No. But I have a frozen crust you could use," she used her head to indicate to the freezer.

I took the potato smasher from her hand. "Aunt Stace, please. I got it. I'll finish dinner, go to the guests. You don't want Uncle Tim to show them his knife and gun collection do you?" I raised my eyebrows knowingly.

"Your right," my aunt handed me the plastic black potato smasher. She took off her white and red stripped apron. "I'll be back, soon," she said. We both knew she wouldn't be back to check on dinner.

"Aunt Stace!" I called after her. She froze on the spot, and swerved around.

"Yes?"

"There's something on your forehead," I indicated with my finger.

Her eyes widened, and touched the exact place on her forehead where the mash potatoes where.

"Oh!" she remarked, grabbing a nearby towel to wipe it off. "Thank you sweetie!"

She went off to tend to the guests like the good hostess she is. I bent down to one of the cupboards that contained the aprons. I took out my _This is what a really cool Grandma looks like _apron. It's one of the many awesome presents Jasper gives me. He got me two, one for here and the other for home. He's just that thoughtful.

I turned my attention to the potato mess in front of me. I sighed. I started to finish my aunt's mashing job. And then quickly sprinkling appropriate amounts of salt and pepper in it. I poured the contents in one of the white serving bowl. I took the green beans out of the frying pan, and placed them in a green platter. I placed a towel in the serving plate that we always placed the bread in. I stacked the bread artfully—not—and wrapped the ends of the towel over the bread so it could stay hot. I peaked at the thermometer on the roast. It was approximately fifteen minutes left so I decided to start on the pie.

I took out the usual ingredients: apples, sugar, flour, cinnamon, and nutmeg. I had to reach in the back of one of the cabinets where they kept all of the apples in a large bin due to the big all-year apple tree in the backyard. I started to slice five apples. After cutting myself roughly, four or five times, I finished cutting them.

There was a polite round of laughter and then muffled murmuring. I sighed.

I tried to focus on the apple pie. I took out a large mixing bowl, and stirred the sugar, flour, cinnamon, and nutmeg. When I was satisfied with the mixture, I poured in the apples and continued stirring once more.

I decided to check on the meat once more. Medium-Rare. Perfect. I took the meat out and let it rest on the stove top. The warm fragrance of the meat and the herbs was mouth watering.

I got the frozen pie crust from the freezer tore the plastic with my nails. I poured the mixture into the pie crust and stuck it in the oven. I lowered the temperature just a smidge for the pie. I put the timer for thirty minutes, knowing I'd forget otherwise. I placed the food in the dinning table, knowing that they wouldn't see me because they were in the living room, which was in the other exit of the kitchen. I felt relieved when I saw that Rose and Jazz had already set the plates.

I sat on the black stool, and leaned over the granite counter top, not exactly feeling up to meeting the whole Cullen family. So instead, I grabbed a copy of Rose's Cosmopolitan magazine that was just lying there. I decided to read it and put it somewhere else, just so she wouldn't get in trouble. Not because I want to read it or anything. Nope, no urge to read the completely phony and cheesy and not to mention slightly degrading magazine. So, I opened the glossy pink cover and started reading the "Guy's Body Language" article and taking the "Are You Approachable?" Quiz. I found that I'm extremely unapproachable and that I needed to lighten up. Wow. What a newsflash. I was starting to read the section about the guy's body language thing, when I heard footsteps coming my way.

Thinking it was Rosalie, I quickly hid the magazine under the nearby People Magazine so she wouldn't see me reading it. I continued scanning the article, flickering my eyes upward when the footsteps got louder and quickly placed them back on the surprisingly informative article.

"This isn't the bathroom," a familiar voice commented wryly.

I looked up, feigning uninterested. "Oh, hi," I tilted my head to the side trying to fight the smile on my face. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"Nothing much. Just, you know, looking for a bathroom," he grinned. I watched his eyes trail down and look at my apron. "You look a little young to be a grandma," he commented.

I snorted. "Why thank you. But I have three grandchildren: Emily, Jane, and Cathy"

I looked back on the page. Who knew if a guy slept in a fetal position they're afraid of getting their heart broken? I wonder if that applies to women too . . .

"Really? Only girls, I see," he walked closer.

I instinctively clutched the magazine closer which just made him look at the magazine more closely.

"Cosmopolitan, huh? I thought you were more of a Times or a Reader's Digest person myself," he smirked.

My mouth dropped. "How do you—?"

He pointed at the tiny exposed glossy pink cover sticking out from underneath the outer magazine.

"But still how—?" I tried asking again.

"There are two women in my house," he raised his eyebrows, like it was self-explanatory. Which, I guess it was. But I'm a girl and I don't read Cosmo religiously. . . usually. . . sometimes. . . Well, not _all_ the time.

"Mm-hmm," I nodded. My eyes trailed back down the the mag's page.

I heard him shuffle his feet nervously. "So . . . Jasper's your cousin."

His silken voice made me look up automatically. "Told you he wasn't my _boyfriend._ Yeesh! That's disgusting. My family doesn't believe in inbreeding you know."

He chuckled, once again nervous. Wow. "Bathroom?" he asked with a grin on his face. Edward had this strange grin on this face. It was the type of grin that made you just want to smile back at him.

I shook my head. "Um, over there," I pointed to the hall that would lead to the dining room. "Go past the dining room and it's the first door on your left."

He nodded and went in that direction. My eyes trailed after him as he made his way, until he disappeared.

"_Cute_," a voice murmured approvingly.

I looked over nervously, where the voice had came from.

"Um . . . Aunt Stacy? Ew," I scrunched up my nose feigning disgust as best as I could. Of course, being my aunt, she saw right through it.

She placed a hand delicately on her chest in shock. "Just because I'm old, Bella, doesn't mean I'm blind," she said with a mischievous smirk. "So . . . ?"

"So, what?"

"So . . . isn't he just a hunk?" she giggled.

My jaw dropped at the word _hunk_. What is my aunt thinking?! Saying?! Does she realize that Edward isn't too far away? And did she really just use the word _hunk_?

"Uhh . . ." my eyes darted to the side anxiously. "Not really Aunt Stace."

She tilted her head to the side with the innocent expression, everything except her smile. It was this devious little thing that she uses on me constantly.

"Really? He's so adorable, I could've just eaten him up!" she winked at me.

My mouth was still gapping open.

"Oh Bella," she shook her head to the side slowly. "It wouldn't hurt to just, get out there again."

Oh god. She was serious now. All hints of playfulness had disappeared in a matter of nanoseconds.

"Uncle Tim and Charlie wouldn't like it," I murmured looking down at the magazine sheepishly hoping that if hid my face, I could just disappear under the magazine.

"Of course they wouldn't!" from her tone, I could picture her rolling her eyes. "But we don't have to tell them the exact moment it happens."

I looked up and sighed knowing that there would be no way around it. "Maybe," I mumbled loud enough for her to hear.

She nodded, knowing that wasn't a yes, but a no with possibilities. And that's all it's going to stay. A no with _no_ possibilities. Wasn't that just lovely? My aunt, trying to set me up, with Edward. That's just sad. I mean, I could see her point of view I guess. But to just . . . push it on me. I don't think I could do it.

"Well, I'll go tell everyone that dinner's ready," she gave me a sympathetic smile. She paused, placing a hand on my shoulder, and patted it. "You can't run from everything Bells."

"I can try," I whispered to myself as she walked back into the room with the guests.

When she was gone, I slumped in my seat. Flashes of every disappointment, every horrible thing that has ever occurred to me, flashed before me. All of the deaths, dissatisfactions, failures, and grief I've caused haunted me at that moment. Just that tiny comment, triggered it all. Tiny comments like that could do that sort of damage. The pain ripped through me. I've never experienced anything worse than emotional pain before. I've experienced physical pain plenty of times, constantly because of my klutz persona, but the emotional rips you from the inside, and tears itself out. Exposing your weakness to the world.

That's when the numbing feeling came again. It started in the hollow of my throat and started spreading it's way slowly like a disease. I couldn't control it; couldn't push it down and feel what I should feel; what I _needed _to feel. I needed to cry, but my tear ducts couldn't even produce a single tear. Instead, I felt a bleak nothingness overwhelm all of my senses, dulling me into a barely conscious state. It was almost like an out of body experience. Reluctantly, I let it take control of my body, overwhelming anything and everything.

"Bella," a hoarse voice gripped my arms shaking me awake.

My head was foggy, but I was aware what was happening.

"Jazz," I groaned. I didn't realize how tightly I was gripping the new magazines. They were crumpled in my hands with my knuckles an eerie white. I released them, letting it drop to the linoleum floor. "Let me go," I forced the words out.

He grumbled something that I didn't completely pick up. Jasper swept me up, cradling me tightly, crystal blue eyes were searching mine.

"Come on Bells, not now," he begged. "We have guests. We don't want them to think we're crazy," his attempt to joke, but his voice break at the end making me aware of his own pain of seeing me like this.

His eyes were blazing with worry. I felt myself soften up, and begin to slowly feel again. Jasper must have been able to see some life ignite back within me, slowly warming my body up, and he gave me a weak grin.

"Bells," he sighed in relief.

"Who'd you think it is? The tooth fairy?" I scowled, trying to get out of his arms _without_ falling three feet to the ground.

He just grinned and my restless form. "Come on, everyone's wondering where you are."

"No one knows who I am," I said not expecting the hurt to seep through my voice.

He rolled his eyes. "Right," Jazz scoffed.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Seriously."

"We're about to eat and Mom wants you there—preferably sane," he said with a laugh, trying to make light of things.

"Ha," I said. "What about—"

"The pie?" Jasper finished for me. "When the timer buzzed off, really loud, and you didn't come to stop it, I came and stop it myself."

"Oh," I murmured.

He finally let me go and let my feet touched the ground. Finally. I took off the stupid apron and tossed it on the stool chair, because the last thing I wanted to do was embarrass myself—more like my aunt and uncle—further than necessary.

I followed Jasper into the dinning room where everyone sat. My uncle sat at one end with Jasper to the right sitting where the corner should be, on my uncle's right. My aunt sat next to Jazz, then Rosalie occupied the seat next to it, where the seat next to her, my seat when there were guests, was empty. Mr. Cullen sat in the the other end, but in between his seat and mine, where the corner was Edward was shoved in there. His mother, Mrs. Cullen, sat in the seat to Mr. Cullen's right. Alice, the pixie-girl, sat between her mother and Emmett who was occupying a lot of space because of his broad shoulders, and muscular body. They all looked up at my appearance, just like before, only, this time I had pants on. The Cullen's expression compared to my family's contrasted deeply. My family looked concern, knowing what had happened in the kitchen, even though they wouldn't speak of it. How were they supposed to? They couldn't possibly understand, and, I consider that a good thing. No one should have seen the things I've saw. No one deserves that. The Cullens merely looked curious, even amused.

I waved tentatively. "Hi, again," I smiled weakly.

"Carlisle, Esme, this is my niece Isabella Swan," my uncle introduced me in his deep business voice. "Bells, this is Dr. Carlisle Cullen and Esme Cullen."

A doctor, is that so? So that means if I would have faked my coma earlier, when I fell, he would have seen through my pretense. Well, that's sucks. I wonder how Edward, Alice, and Emmett fake multiple illnesses like normal kids do to get out of stuff.

"Edward told us a lot about you," Carlisle said, as I took my seat.

Edward was so close to me, I could feel the heat radiating from his skin. I had to be very meticulous when it came to when I moved a right arm or leg. I didn't want it to touch Edward's skin because I was frightened at the reaction that it might have when it made contact with Edward's.

"Is that so?" I peered at Edward out of the corner of my eye. His ears were turning pink.

"_Dad_," he groaned quietly, shutting his eyes. Probably to tune his parents out. I used to do that.

"He told us how you made him that knew schedule of him and how you're sharing lockers with him since there are none available. That is so kind of you," Esme gushed lovingly. She was so . . . _nice_ and motherly. It was hard not to love this woman.

I shrugged serving myself a helping of potatoes. Everyone has their serving of food, and different colored drinks that ranged from wine to sparkling water to Coke to lemonade. The food on each of their plates looked relatively untouched. They were probably waiting for me.

"Just doing my job Mrs. Cullen," I replied modestly.

"Call me Esme," she said with a kind smile.

"And me Carlisle," he gave me a similar smile. Wow these people were so . . . nice. Too nice. I wonder if it was all a huge pretense.

"Well, let's eat!" Uncle Tim bellowed joyously. He and Emmett were the firsts ones to dig into their food.

Alice picked up her fork daintily and chewed the meat precariously. She grinned, and then ate some more. Each of them ate hungrily and appreciatively with grins of their own.

"Mrs. Swan, this is fantastic!" Esme said.

"It's delicious," Carlisle smiled, thankfully.

They both were so . . . in sync that is was unbelievable. They were like two people who completed each other—as corny as it sounds. I didn't even know that was possible, but apparently it is. The way they gazed into each other's eyes subtly explains it all.

My aunt blushed. "Oh, I can't take all the credit. Really, it's Bella's recipe. She came up with most of it, and helped in the kitchen after . . . ," she looked hesitantly to my uncle. "After she tidied up."

Jazz, Rose, and Aunt Stace knew better than to talk about the boxers incident with the Cullens when Uncle Tim was here, he'd explode if he found out. Too bad Emmett didn't know that.

"Yeah, Bella, I didn't know you lived in Bikini Bottom," Emmett snickered with a mouthful of food, which made Esme look at Emmett hastily in warning. "You're boxers said your appearing live, there."

Rats.

"What?!" Uncle Tim bellowed.

He tried to contain the volume and the veracity in his voice, but I could hear it slowly gaining control. His face froze in rage. His eyes were serious, and slightly glazed over, I flinched involuntarily at his expression. His face flickered a second. His brown eyes flashed, and turned into the pitch black soulless ones that haunted me.

An inadvertent whimper escaped my lips. It brought me back to reality. I realized that I was now unintentionally leaning on Edward's body, clutching to some sort of cloth in my hand. I was highly aware of the fact that Edward's hand was squeezing my leg reassuringly, almost comforting. I jolted to the side, ripping myself away from Edward, releasing his shirt—which was the cloth I was holding—and clutched the end of the table in a vain attempt to replace Edward's shirt. The ragged edges of the table dug into my skin, making me feel some sort of physical pain—it was the only way to know if I was still alive.

Uncle Tim's expression changed abruptly. His features turned soft in concern realizing what he had done wrong instantly. "Bells, I'm sorry I didn't—I wasn't think—"

"It's _fine_. I'm _fine_," I pressed through gritted teeth. I could tell no one believed me.

I lifted my eyes up so I could only see Uncle Tim's face, and no one else's. I couldn't handle it if I saw the burning gazes of pity, confusion, and concern. I could already imagine it all too well. I could see the hurt in his eyes for causing whatever horrible memories he had scrounged up accidentally.

"Bella," my aunt's voice had a twinge of warning in it. I turned my gaze to her and mentally challenged her to say it. To say what she was thinking. I knew what she was thinking. That I was running away from my problems again. That I wouldn't allow myself to feel the pain. It wasn't my fault! It wasn't like I wanted to feel this way.

"Is she okay?" a voice whispered hoarsely. I didn't even bothered looking to who said it. No one replied, for obvious reasons.

I shut my eyes as the numbness overwhelmed me. Exactly on schedule. I opened them, dully.

"See?" I said apathetically. There was no emotion whatsoever in my voice, "I'm fine."

No one believed me, again. Of course they wouldn't. I scolded myself mentally. Why did I have to mess dinner up? Why do I always have to mess _everything_ up? Everything was my fault . . . I can't ever control what I do, and it leads to these disastrous events. Why? Why do I always have to do this? The numbing strengthened at my thoughts.

To convince my audience further, I cut the roast with my knife, making the excess juices overflow on my plate. Even though I didn't have an appetite at all, I placed a piece of the steak and chewed. Than I shoved mashed potatoes in my mouth. I flushed in down with large audible gulps of Coke and repeated the process. Eventually, they did the same, eating their meals.

"How was work Dad?" Jasper asked, trying to take the attention off of me. I looked up at him gratefully, seeing him looking at me anxiously from the corner of his eyes.

He titled his head to the side as if remembering the strangest of things. "You know, the strangest thing happened at work today," he mused to himself. Ahh, so I am right. "Hank Beail, the new teacher, he came up to me and started talking about knives and how his brother is in the navy. It was so strange. He then convinced me to get ice cream—sugar-free with chocolate sauce no less! And then he gave me three Cuban cigars." He shook his head incredulously. "I have no idea why he did that, being so nice to me. And it was as if he could read my mind . . . ," he looked at me suspiciously with a knowing grin on his face.

"Wow, that _is_ weird," I commented wryly. I glanced at Edward to my right who was trying to suppress laughter.

The attention drifted off of me, slowly, thanks to Jasper. They tore their gazes away, and started to grin. I felt better when he did so. I was starting to feel slowly once more.

" . . . and then I pushed her out the window," Edward said with a grin looking at me. I noticed the way he expected my uncle to scold me for doing something like that, but I knew he wouldn't. Of course he wouldn't. Walking around in my boxers, yes, but impersonating a counselor and using their equipment, never.

I wrinkled my nose, knowing exactly what he was talking about.

"No way!" Alice's eyes stared at me, then back at her brother in obvious disbelief. "You did _not_ push Bella out the window!"

"I did," he smirked, his eyes twinkling at the memory. "And then she fell."

"And my butt still hurts," I grumbled, with an involuntary grin.

The table erupted in booming laughter.

"Typical, Bells," Uncle T said between laughs.

I scowled playfully. "I couldn't just pop out of the closet! Morton already thinks I'm crazy because of what I did last Christmas."

Jasper and Rosalie snorted with laughter while my aunt and uncle shook their heads in disapproval trying to mask their amusement.

"What?" Emmett asked confused. His black eyebrows scrunched together, with a look of pure innocence.

I pursed my lips. "Nothing," I grumbled.

My face twisted up at the memory. _His _face was so hilarious. Too bad the whole staff still teased me about it constantly. 'How'd you get them Bells?' 'Hey, is one missing? Bella, you better not be doing something with your boyfriend.' 'Did you have to show them your ID Isabella?'

"Bella, gave him condoms for Christmas when he and Ms. Sophia Matthews started . . . er . . . having _relations _together. In the janitor's closet. Every hour, on the hour," Jasper smirked.

"Get to the point Jazz," my uncle rolled his eyes, playfully.

"So she gave him boxes of _for his and her _condoms and gave him a note that said . . ." he looked at me with a smirk. "What did it say Bells?"

"You know exactly what it said," I grumbled to everyone's amusement.

He looked up and tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I don't think I do," he said making Alice giggle.

"It said, '_If you're going to have sex all the time, you might as well be protected. __All__ the time_,' " I poked a piece of steak with my fork causing the people who already knew what happened, and the men laugh hysterically, and Alice and Esme to gasp, then laugh.

Everyone was practically finished with their meal, so right now people shared stories about each other, to the other person's embarrassment. I learned that Alice used to dress up her older brother—by seven months apparently, Alice was born a preemie, which explained her tiny stature, but whatever health conditions she was born with had disappeared; she seemed perfectly fine now—in girlish outfits. She gave us vivid descriptions of Edward in a purple tu-tu that she wore for Halloween one year. And how he had a matching tiara and wand. Edward shot his sister a look, and then talked about the time when Alice was being potty trained she fell through the little donut hole toilet training seat that parent's used for kids when they're still too small to use the toilet without it. He said how her butt got stuck, and how he and Emmett tried to pry her out before their parents came. Which got Carlisle on a tale how Emmett thought he was allergic to pizza because he took a bite of it, and he swelled up like a big red balloon. Emmett completely freaked out, but not over the allergic reaction itself, but the fact he wouldn't be able to have a slice of pizza himself.

"You think it's funny until it happens to _you!_" he grumbled making the laughing harder. "I mean, a life without pizza! It's unheard of!"

"You're right Em, being allergic to pizza, the horror! What next? Being allergic to peanut butter?" Edward teased.

Emmett's eyes widened in horror. "That's impossible!" he cried. "Peanut butter is the most heavenly substance on Earth, no one should be allergic to it."

"Sadly," Alice sighed, with a smirk on her face. "Edward is telling the truth."

Emmett narrowed his eyes. "You lie . . . Both of you, _lie._"

"Is the pie ready Bella?" my uncle rubbed his stomach for desert.

I nodded. "Yup. I'll start cutting the pieces," I stood up, heading for the kitchen.

"I'll go with you," I heard Edward's chair squealed as he got up to help me.

"How thoughtful Edward, thank you," my aunt said approvingly. I saw her cast me a quick glance, telling me how polite and considerate he is. Right.

Edward followed me to the kitchen, leaning on the counter top with one elbow watching me as I took out the ice cream. And proceeded to cut the pie. I cut the pieces and placed each of them on a plate.

"Rose will want more ice cream than pie, so give her more. Jasper will want an even amount of each. Uncle Tim too. Aunt Stace will want less ice cream," I told him. He did exactly as told, watching me carefully. I waited for him to ask the inevitable.

"So, what was that? In the dinning room I mean," he asked conversationally. I could hear the slight edge of his voice like he was demanding to know. Like he needed to know.

I looked at him, bemused. "What? What are you talking about?" I asked.

He looked at me, not believing a second of my performance.

"Oh!" I chuckled to myself. "_That_. That was nothing. I was just forgot to do something. And now, I'll get in trouble."

He looked at me unbelievingly. "You're a crappy liar," he stated.

"Am not!" I crossed my arms together with the pie serving triangular tool still in my right hand.

His left eyebrow puckered. "So you forgot _two_ things that'll get you in trouble? I saw you in the kitchen. I had to tell Jasper to do something," his green eyes were filled with concern.

Concern was the absolute last thing I need. I have too much of it. I _always_ have too much of it. That's all people ever give me. That look, of wanting to understand and help, just because of the situation. Except, there was something different in his eyes.

"I thought Jasper said he heard the buzzer," I searched through my memory, and it was right. That's what he had told me. That's what I believed.

Edward snorted. "And you believed him? He _lied_ Bella."

I narrowed my eyes. "Jazz, wouldn't . . . Never mind," I grumbled changing my mind.

I grabbed as many plates as I could—which was three—and Edward carried the rest easily placing them in front of each correct person.

"Thank you," each one of them mumbled politely.

"Bells, we're going to go to the living room," my uncle informed me. "So you, Rose, and Jazz can take Emmett, Alice, and Edward into the lounge okay?"

I nodded. He used the word lounge, like it was some fancy place with a moose's head mounted on the wall above a fireplace, with a large skinned rug of some poor animal, with a large leather couch, with an intimidatingly big bookcase, and oak desk, but that wasn't the case at all. The lounge was just an extra room with a HD TV set with a PlayStation3, an Xbox 360, and a Wii. It also had a cable box, a couple couches, bean bag chairs, a computer, an empty desk, and several bookshelves. It even had it's own mini-fridge and toaster oven.

We walked over to the room and Emmett and Edward's mouth gapped open.

"Awesome!" Emmett nodded approvingly. He went to go observe the television set more carefully. "Plasma, _nice_."

Alice pranced around the place, and sat on a chair. She crossed her legs, sitting in a traditional meditation-like position. Rosalie took her usual spot on the larges of couches and Emmett sat down next to her chatting enthusiastically with her. She seemed interested in the conversation. Strange. She usually pretended to be interested, but right now it looked genuine. Alice looked at Jasper and started talking to him animatedly, while Jasper answered back shyly.

Since everyone was preoccupied, I snatched the remote while I had the chance and flipped on the TV. I flipped through the List section where all of the recorded shows were kept. The new episode of _Bones _I haven't had the chance to watch it yet. I played it watching it anxiously. I loved the beginning of each episode; the part that gets you excited the most. The beginning showed a body with a decapitated head that was found in the forest. Apparently, the superstitions blamed a local witch on that, but Bones—Dr. Brennan—thinks otherwise.

I heard someone next to me snort.

It was much closer and louder than I anticipated. Like the person was right next to me. I looked over to my side to see Edward, once again, really close to me. Our bodies almost _touching_. He was looking at the screen with a amused look on his face finding it oddly funny. After the opening credits were finished, Edward scoffed and chuckle multiple times making me even more aware of the distance—or lack thereof—between us. I looked at him, trying to understand his cryptic response of what's happening.

"You find decomposed decapitated bodies funny?" I remarked, with an grin that was almost automatic.

He looked at me, the sides of his mouth was twitching. "So you're talking to me again?" he pretended to be shocked.

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, I'm talking to you. And don't make me change my mind."

He didn't hide his smirk anymore. "Hodgins is the smart one, next to Bones and Zack. And he believes in all that superstitious stuff?" he scoffed.

"Some people believe in it," I defended Hodgins. He was my favorite character.

He raised his eyebrows. "Do you?" he asked.

"Well I—no. Kinda. Sorta. Not really," I mumbled. "Hodgins is just kinda awesome."

He laughed, his eyes full of humor. I turned my attention back to the TV.

"Hodgins is my favorite character too, next to Booth," he said thoughtfully.

"Booth?" I turned back around to look at him since it was a commercial. "Why _Booth?_"

"Why Hodgins?" he asked with a lop-sided grin.

I shrugged. "I don't know. He's just . . . funny, smart, and rich. And then the thing with Angela. It's kinda sweet . . . ," I confessed shamefully.

"So you like the witty, bookworm, filthy-rich guys who fall hopelessly in love with a girl, despite whether or not it might turn out disastrous," he didn't say it bitterly like I expected, but it was more calm. Like he was stating a well known fact.

"I . . . um . . . no. I don't," I tried to say.

He just looked at me and flashed me a weak smile. "Just an observation."

"I don't care about the rich part," I whispered not knowing if he heard or not.

"So, what if he's completely broke?" he asked. He shifted his body so it was angled more at me and less at the TV screen.

"Then he's broke. I guess it wouldn't matter if I loved him." Like I of all people could fall in love.

"What if he's rich? Really, really rich?" he suggested once more.

I shrugged. "Then he's rich," I said.

He just snickered, while something unfamiliar flashed in his eyes. I turned to the screen trying to figure out what _exactly_ the look in his eyes was. I went through every possible emotion that I could think of. I couldn't find any that fit exactly. Nothing that I was completely familiar with at least. Nothing I was used to seeing or feeling.

After roughly a third done with the show—which included my fast forwarding through the commercials—there was a tap on the door. Aunt Stacy opened it slowly, poking her head through looking at each of us. Undoubtedly she noticed how each of us paired up and started making assumptions that caused her to be more ecstatic that I hoped.

"Edward, Alice, Emmett," she said each name with a lengthened pause. "It's time for you to go. Please come _whenever_ you want."

I noticed Rose roll her eyes at her mother—I wasn't the only one who noticed what she was thinking. She whispered something into Emmett's ear when she left. He grinned and said something back that made her looked pleased.

Edward started to get up and follow his siblings out the door when he paused for a second and turned to me. "In the end, the brother does it. And then Angela and Hodgins find a weird image in the footage. See ya," he winked at me.

The Cullens left after that. Edward just nodded me goodbye and walked through the door like the rest of his family. I didn't think much of it and continued to watch the rest even though Edward had ruined it for me. I still wanted to watch it regardless.

I don't know when it happened. Maybe it was somewhere between the episodes of _The Closer _and _Sex and The City_, but I feel asleep. My dreams were dark, with those unnaturally black eyes, with hate in them. I couldn't scream in my dream as the man started at me with the knife. I looked at my mother's unmoving body with a pool of bright red surrounded her. I tried to scream like I always do, but nothing came out. Instead, I was frozen on the spot. Unable to move. Unable to speak. Unable to feel. As the knife grew closer and closer to me, my eyes widened. I could see the reflection of my eyes in them. His evil smile twisted his face in a dark way making him look sinister, kind of like the joker, except much much more real.

The blade was about to graze my skin, when I jolted awake with that scream that needed to come out that six-odd years ago. I looked around in a panic. I was drenched in sweat, and my heart was thumping so loud I could feel it in my ears. I clutched the throw pillow in my hand. My breathing was ragged. I got up slowly, feeling my way through the dark as my eyes adjusted to the darkness.

I walked into Jasper's room where he slept. I could hear his untroubled breathing that contrasted with mine. I laid in his bed. He must have felt the bed shift or something because he was awake at once.

"Bells?" his voice was hoarse. "Is that you?"

I sniffled.

"Bella, it was just a dream," he rubbed my back soothingly knowing exactly what had happened.

"But it happened, Jazz," the pain in my voice made Jasper wince.

"It was just a dream," he cooed once more.

And I cried. I cried for the first time in months. All of that pent up emotions that I've been unintentionally containing flooded out right then; all on Jasper's shirt as he rubbed my back comfortingly as he could. I cried about everything, about the things that had happened; about the things that just happened; the things that will happen. The things that were my fault; and the things that weren't. I cried for all the sadness, anger, jealousy, abandonment, loneliness, embarrassment, and stupidity. I cried for everything I needed to cry for, that I had yearned to cry for earlier. I finally could just _let go_.

"Jazz . . . it's all my fault," I said in between heavy sobs.

"No Bells," he wrapped his arms around me tightly. "It's _not_ your fault. What he did was his choice. You had nothing to do with it."

"He said it was my fault," I tried to say, but the sound was lost in my hysteric cries. But Jazz must have understood.

"He's a fucking liar Bella," Jasper said with as much hate and spite for that man as I felt.

Jasper . . . he has always been there for me. The only person who was every truly there for me. He was my rock. My best friend. My only friend. My cousin. He was always there if I needed him, regardless of whatever it was. He would gladly drop anything to help me out no matter how insignificant. Like now. I don't know what I'd do if it wasn't for Jasper. He was the only person I could go to and just cry. The only person I feel completely safe with.

And laid there, in my cousins arms. He let me just lie there, ruining his clothes and sheets with my salty tears until I fell asleep into peaceful dreams; dreams that didn't contain that hateful man, but contained someone else. Someone worth dreaming of.

* * *

Author's Note: A round of applause for SwanBella228! Yes, were right, Jazz is Bell's cuz. And I wana thank some super awesome people: book.babe15, VampireQueenSeleneArtemesia, Ragazza Di Vampiro, and therealBellaSwan-Cullen. You guys are awesome beyond words!


	3. Poetaetoe, Pohtahtoe

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or the characters—except for like, three or four.

Author's Note: The characters might seem slight OOC, _but_ keep in mind that Edward isn't a hundred year old virgin (necessarily) and Rosalie is Bella's cousin so some empathy and sympathy is in order. Certain events had happened previously in this fic that slightly changed the characters persona, just a tad, but not _extremely_.

Chapter 3 − Poe-tae-toe, Poh-tah-toe

I stretched my aching body feeling the smooth sheets against my skin. I cracked an eye open, but the intense light from the window came streaming in faster and brighter than I anticipated. I groaned, and rolled to my side. I was expecting to lie on my side, with a face full of pillow, instead I got a face full of Jasper's carpet. My face burned on contact. I tried to push myself, but my arms felt Jell-O-like and I only slumped to the ground once more. I groaned trying to get up, and stay put at the same time.

There were muffled noises through the walls. Someone was here, someone who wasn't Rosalie, Jasper, Aunt Stace, or Uncle Tim. I feel like I should be remembering something . . . something important. What day was it? Saturday . . . Saturday. The first Saturday of the month.

I sat up in realization. A lot of pressure flowed to my head, making everything dizzy and the room spun.

"The party!" I gasped.

I checked the clock, not knowing what time it was. It said 1:37. And considering that the sun is so bright, it's PM not AM. Rose's party was today. Fantastic. I had completely forgotten about Rose's party.

Let me explain, every single first Saturday of the month, Aunt Stacy drags Uncle Tim to this thing with all of her girlfriends. She either goes out to eat with them for lunch or dinner or they take turns going each other's house. Today, they were going to Oregon because that's where one of the overly peppy women live. They are so perky that it's annoying. It's unnatural how perky those women are, I can hardly stand it. Anyway, whenever they're gone Rosalie throws a huge party whenever they're gone because they are usually gone for two days at a time. All of Rose's friends came, so inevitably all of Jazz's football, baseball, and basketball friends came. It was just great. So in this house, there's a huge amount of people that don't care or even know me, when _I_ know them. But it wasn't like I wasn't allowed to invite anyone. Rosalie told me to invite anyone I want to, but, there's no one that I'd want to come to these parties—anymore at least.

Reluctantly, I dragged myself down the second set of stairs into the kitchen. I grabbed a box of cereal, Lucky Charms, and filled a bowl with it and milk. I ignored the obnoxious snickering from my left. I kept my eyes on the bowl, not allowing them to travel to the direction of the snickerer. There was a burst of sadistic giggling. I chomped on my cereal with more force than necessary.

"Wow Rose, your cousin dresses like a guy," an annoyingly and sadly familiar nasal voice squawked.

I shut my eyes and scrunch up my nose like I smelled trash, feces, and rotten eggs all at once. It became a reflex after a while, whenever I heard her voice. Her horribly horrible voice. My hand gripped tighter around the white bowl.

Going against my better judgment, I focused my gaze on her on Lauren Mallory. Her face was upturned in a smug arrogant smirk. It made me want to smack it off her face.

"Lauren," I didn't try to hide the indifference from my voice.

"Bella," she lifted her head upward, so I could see more of her nostrils. It was bad enough that her nose is already extremely upturned.

"Love your nose. Although, I thought you were getting a new one," I flicked a piece of cereal in her direction.

_Awesome_. Direct hit, a miracle; it bounced off her leg with a satisfying _thwack_ and ricocheted landing on the white linoleum floor.

"And I thought you were going to get a life," she snided.

I rolled my eyes at her lack of imagination. If she could buy one, she would definitely try, even if it meant charging it on her credit card, which had enough debt on it already—school rumors.

"Is that new?" I asked eying her outfit.

She nodded tentatively wondering what my intentions were. "Why?" she asked, watching my every single move.

Wow, she is paranoid.

I smirked. "Well, Rose wore something like that a couple of weeks ago," I shrugged. "I guess your choice in outfits are as original as your comebacks."

Lauren's mouth dropped as she stared at me in disbelief. She kind of looked like one of those creatures, that leaves their mouth's open for extremely long periods of time until their prey finally comes in and then they devour it. This particular creature's eyes seem to bulge out of her head.

"You should close your mouth before something nests in it," I hinted while walking back up the stairs with the overflowing bowl in my hands.

"Does she _have_ to come?" I heard Lauren whine to Rosalie.

I paused at the middle of the stairs. They wouldn't be able to see me from here. I was safe. So I sat down on one of the steps, curious to what Rose would say. I stuck the metal spoon cautiously in my mouth waiting for an answer; any kind of reply.

"Well," Rosalie sighed in annoyance. I don't know if it was directed at me or Lauren. "Since this is a _house_ party and Bella lives in this _house_ I guess she's entitled to come. Because she lives here."

Ah, so she stuck up for me. Weird. Usually she'd say nothing at all and let Lauren do some Bella bashing as much as they wanted. Great friends, right?

"Still, can't that freak find her own friends?" she snorted. When Edward snorted it was on the borderline of adorable and annoying. When Lauren did it, it was down right annoying.

I have no idea why Rosalie bothers with Lauren. She has no money, there was no chance of true friendship blossoming because Lauren was so conceited, cold hearted, and a down right bitch. She wasn't even remotely close to be as drop dead gorgeous as Rosalie was. Why did she even bother? I suppressed a sigh because I didn't want to get caught. Rose loved the attention she gave her. The utter adoration. The way she could easily manipulate Lauren because she had no brain of her own. It was ingenious, manipulative, and somewhat cruel.

"Like she can get any," another voice I remarked. It belonged to a person who I didn't even bother registering until now. It was Jessica Stanley. If I thought Lauren was obsessive over my cousin, then Jessica worshiped the ground Rose walked on.

Jess and I used to be friends, extremely close. She was there for me when my mother was . . . when my mother died. The only person here—other than Jasper—who seemed to care. And apparently she didn't. She only used me to get to Rosalie and her posse of perfection. Rosalie let her in reluctantly, and then tried to kick her out when she found out what she did to me.

That was the strangest thing of all. I was shocked at the time. Rose had never cared about me at all before that. She would barely acknowledge my existence, but in that moment, Rosalie showed me her true compassion. That she did care oddly enough. But her displays of affection towards me were limited. It was a rare occasion, like Christmas or Halloween, coming only once a year, but it was worth the wait. However, Jessica was persistent and followed Rosalie everywhere. And you would think that my dad, Rose's uncle, would do something about it, but he did nothing. Eventually, when Jessica was _assumed_ no harm, Rose let her linger for a little while. _I_ told Rosalie to kick her scrawny butt out of here. She did, but Jessica always found a way back in.

"I really hope the Cullens can make it," Rose sighed, changing the subject immediately off of me.

"I know! They are _so_ hot," Jessica droned on.

Rosalie giggled.

Was it just me, or did Rosalie's giggle seemed, oh I don't know, anxious? Excited? For a boy? That was weird. Rose could care less of which boy was taking her out the next night, and now with the appearance of the Cullen family to the party would make her day. Maybe she _actually_ liked Emmett. I mentally scoffed at the thought.

Skip trudged down the stairs, his long curly fur swaying with each step. He paused at looked at me with his deep brown eyes that twinkled with hope. I ruffled the fur on the top of his head. His curly tail wagged furiously to the side as he nuzzled my hand with his wet nose.

"This party will be so awesome," another girl, her name escapes me, said excitedly. I don't remember her voice. She must be a new addition to Rosalie's 'clique.' I hate the word clique, it just adds more to the stereotypes, which sadly exist, but I try to ignore that fact and pretend that there's no such thing as social divides even though it was completely obvious.

They started gushing over their outfits. I took that as the cue to leave. I headed up the stairs with Skip at my heels. I placed my cereal bowl on the wooden desk that was only feet away from my bed. I sat the the edge trying to fight the urge for me to go back to sleep. Skipper's little body jumped on the large bed and rubbed himself against me like a cat would. I swear, this dog is insane. The only dog-like thing he does it eat every thing in sight, with the exception of most things green that hold possible nutrients. I pushed him aside and crawled under the blankets. Skip did the exact same as I did, pressing his warm furry body to my legs.

Why couldn't my aunt have gone somewhere closer? That way Rosalie wouldn't bother throwing this party. Her parties were legendary, even though I couldn't find anything particularly special about them. They were a bunch of sweaty noisy people grinding each other with loud music. That's not really my exact definition of fun. That's why I lock my door and read or sleep the entire time I'm here. Or I'd steal some DVDs from Uncle Tim's unusually large DVD collection. He has a couple hundred of discs all lined up alphabetically. Of course, I've watched all of them at least four times just like everyone else in this household has, but I still could watch my favorites on my laptop.

I was mentally debating on a mindless comedy like _Harold and Kumar Goes To White Castle_ or _White Chicks_ or a stupid, hopeless, and predictable romantic comedy like _Love Actually_ or _The Holiday _when someone shook me awake. I didn't even realize that I fell asleep. I turned on my other side—without falling this time.

"Isabella Marie Swan you will get your ass up and wear some kind of pants, _now!_" a shrill voice demanded.

I opened my eyes to see that a red-faced Rosalie was at my bedside yelling at me. She was in her party attire, which was basically pieces of cloth barely holding on by several threads. Of course she pulled it off, Rosalie can pull off a paper sack and makes it look like it came right off the runway—yeah, she's that kind of girl.

"You sound just like your mom right now, you know?" I grumbled, swinging my legs around the bed. I ruffled my hair a bit on my right side of my head while I yawned.

She narrowed her crystal blue eyes dangerously at me. I stared back at them blankly.

She grumbled in frustration, "Come _on_ Bella! Work with me!" Rose was pacing the room now.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, considering going back to bed.

"People will be coming in, like," she looked at the clock briefly, "an hour! How are you supposed to get ready?!" Rose demanded, her eyes fixated on me.

"Uh-huh," I got up, wavering a bit. I steadied myself on a nearby chair. "And what do I have to do with it, Rose? It's your party."

"So?!" she was a lot more jumpy than usual. It was kind of freaking me out.

"So, I usually wear sweats and one of Jazz's tops and you don't bug me." A flashback of last year floated in my mind. I winced at the memory.

"This time is different," she stated simply pushing me to the closet. Rosalie began picking random outfits. She threw them on my messy bed until she found the perfect one.

"This one," she said triumphantly. She held up a top that someone had given me for Christmas. Or my birthday. I don't remember, but it was girlish and flimsy. And with that, she took out a micro-mini—which is, in case you didn't know, the mini-mini skirt's midget sister—and put it on my waist like she was seeing if it'd fit.

"Rose, I'm not wearing that," I shoved her hands and skirt off of my waist. "I can get dressed by myself, thank you."

Rosalie just scoffed, but walked away.

Finally, I though she'd never leave. I started back to the bed to get some more shut eye. If I waited to go to sleep when the party starts, I better find some earplugs. I brushed the covers with my fingertips that were screaming for me to lie on the bed—

"Bella!" Rosalie loud voice boomed from where ever she went to. "You better not be going back to bed!"

I sighed. "I'm not anymore!" I growled.

I slid off the boxers and put on the a random pair of jeans. I slid the oversized top off, and put on a black shapeless band-tee instead. I ruffled my hair a little and walked downstairs where people would start to arrive. I ignored the excess amount of food and drink that was starting to pop up in different places.

I grabbed the essentials: a liter Coke, a big bag of chips lying around, a handful of DVDs, and a tub of ice cream—a girl's gotta have her sweets you know. It was the Ben and Jerry's Karamel Sutra, the best of the best. I mean, what could be better than chocolate, caramel, and fudge? Uh, nothing. I placed a clean spoon in my mouth and carried my stuff to my room. I put everything in it's exact spot. I turned on my computer letting it hum to life.

The main screen brightened to life as my wallpaper begin to appear; and that's when the doorbell rang and the party began . . .

Oooh . . . the melodramatics of it all. Not everyone showed up at once, of course. That only happens in movies. It was just one person. Who slowly turned into two, then three, then four, then forty. Simple as that. But as soon as that one person arrived, the music started thumping making the floor vibrate. _Nice_, very nice.

There was a light knocking on the door, and then it opened. A head full of blonde hair stuck his head inside. I was relived it was just Jasper and not a couple heavily making out—but it was too early for that anyways.

"Are you going to be okay Bells?" Jasper asked me, with sincere eyes.

I shrugged. "I guess. Do we have more ice cream?" I asked, with a smile.

"I think so," Jasper said, still studying me any sign that would make him think that I'd do something insane.

"Then I'm perfect," I flashed Jasper a smile as best as I could.

Jasper laughed at my attempt and walked inside and sat on the bed next to me. "You sure you want to be watching . . . ," he looked at my movie choices and held one up questioningly, "_Love Actually_?" he finished with a smirk.

"Shut up!" I hissed grabbing the movie from his hands. "It's a sweet movie."

"Weren't you just making fun of Rosalie for liking this type of movies? You said that they were predictable crap, and that all of the plots are the same?" he repeated my words teasingly.

"So?!" I pulled my eyebrows together. "These are chick flicks, and believe it or not I _am_ a chick Jasper." I stuck my tongue out at him. "Go have fun with Stacy, or whatever."

"It's Sarah," Jasper corrected.

I waved my hand in the air. "Like it matters."

He just laughed at me. Jazz ruffled my hair with his hand making it fly in different directions. "Just remember to come down once tonight."

"Fine, but not when Tyler starts doing shots," I grimaced at the memory. "There are some things so horrible that no amount of therapy can repair."

Jasper just rolled his eyes. "Whatever Bells."

I popped in the DVD and placed Skip on my lap, who gets extremely jumpy when all of the people start coming, so I usually keep him cooped up in the room with me. I started petting his fur gently to comfort his nerves, Skip'll get really anxious if I don't.

The thing that I love about this movie, is how even though there are separate love stories going on at once, all of the characters are connected to each other somehow. It's like a really weird coincidence. No. Not a coincidence, fate. It was fate that all of these people with connections with each other met one another. Like it was just waiting to happen because you sister's co-worker or whatever is your soul mate, and it's just a matter of time before you meet each other. Or that dorky guy who gets turned down in England, but adored in America. Or the part when the Minister falls in love with the new quote on quote chubby girl, frankly she isn't all that chubby. Basically, this movie is all about finding true love and whatnot. Even an eleven year old gets his woman! Geez.

I was at the part where the woman at the office is in a meeting with her boss, who was talking about her professional relationship with they guy she was hopelessly in love with—it was a shame he didn't even pay a speck of attention to her. It was something everyone could relate to, what I can relate to. Sad isn't it?

Harry: Tell me, exactly, how long it is that you've been working here?

Sarah: Two years, seven months, three days and, I suppose, what, two hours?

Harry: And how long have you been in love with Karl, our enigmatic chief designer?

Sarah: Ahm, two years, seven months, three days and, I suppose, an hour and thirty minutes.

Harry: I thought as much.

Sarah: Do you think everybody knows?

Harry: Yes.

Sarah: Do you think Karl knows?

Harry: Yes.

Sarah: Oh, that is- that is bad news.

Harry: Well I just thought maybe the time had come to do something about it.

Sarah: Like what?

Harry: Invite him out for a drink and then after about twenty minutes casually drop into the conversation the fact that you'd like to marry him and have lots of sex and babies.

Sarah: You know that?

Harry: Yes. And so does Karl. Think about it. For all our sakes. It's Christmas.

Sarah: Certainly. Excellent. Will do. Thanks, boss.

Karl: Hi Sarah

Sarah: Hi Karl . . .

I squealed squeezing my pillow to my chest. My pillow squeaked and tried worming itself out of my arms.

"Skip!" I released him surprised. I forgot he was even there.

He bared his teeth at me. After making a huffing noise, he walked over to the corner of the bed and curled up in a ball, giving me a angry look.

"Sorry Skip! I thought you were a pillow!" I reached my arm out trying to coax my stubborn stubborn dog.

He growled at me. Stupid grumpy old dog. I love him so much though. It's sad really. To love a dog like you would a sister or a parent.

I grabbed an actual pillow to replace my dog's spot. It wasn't as warm as Skip, but it'll have to do. I pulled it closer during my favorite parts. Which was the majority of the movie. I put a mouthful of ice cream in my mouth.

The door bursted open.

"Bella!" a bubbly voice called out my name.

"Alice?" I stared at the spiky haired pixie-like girl who just busted open my door and preceded to my bed. "What are—?"

"Jasper said I'd find you here," she said peering over my shoulder. I froze, I wasn't too used to people being so close to me. Her face was right next to mine looking at the laptop screen.

"Oooh! _Love Actually_! My favorite!" she squealed sitting next to me. "Oh! I love this part. Where that girl finds out that her new husband's best friend is love with her. It's so sweet!" Alice gushed.

This is why I keep these things a secret. That's why I don't tell people that I enjoy these sort of things, because if I do then I'd sound like a mushy sap, kind of like Alice. Which works for Alice fine, but it doesn't work for me at all. It would make me look pathetic.

"Pass me the chips," she held her hand out waiting for me to place the chips in her hand.

"Um," I blinked. I grabbed the chips and gave them to Alice confusedly. "Alice, why are you here?" I asked her, unable to understand why she's here.

She just shrugged. "I'm _new_, Bella," she said like it was supposed to explain everything. It should have, but didn't. I mean really, who'd want to spend their time at a party with me, upstairs watching my favorite movies, that I try to keep a secret from most people. It didn't make any sense. Alice doesn't look socially inept like me.

"But, um, what about Jasper or Rosalie? Or Edward and Emmett?" I asked still trying to understand.

"Jasper is with his big basketball friends or whatever. Rosalie's friends are annoying brainless whores," I laughed at that. "Edward is eating everything in sight and Emmett . . ." she trailed off rolling her eyes at her oldest brother. "Emmett is being Emmett."

I nodded. "I see," and I shoved another spoonful of ice cream in my mouth.

Alice eyed the room carefully, like she was looking at every crack. "So this is your room," she murmured in approval.

"Um. Yeah," I shook my head slowly. "Well, no, not really. I mean—" I paused to look at Alice's bemused face. Fantastic, she thinks I'm insane now. Great, right? Hell, this might as well be my room since the whole sleeping arrangements and how I'm here all the time.

"Okay?" she gave me one of those polite smiles. You know the type. The smile that you give a person when you really can't find the words because the person either A) looks like an idiot B) is acting like an idiot or C) looks so pathetic in their present state that, that's all you can do at the moment.

"I don't live here," I tried to explain. "I live at my house with my dad, Charlie. It's just that Charlie is never at home so my uncle kinda makes me stay here with Rose and Jazz, all the time"

She gave me an amused smile. "Uh-huh."

"That doesn't make any sense does it?" I gave a weak laugh.

Her light feminine laughter bellowed in my ear. "It doesn't."

"Hmm . . ." I pursed my lips. "Story of my life."

"Oh, look at that outfit!" Alice tsked. I noticed that her eyes were a blue with a hint of green in them while her nose was wrinkled in some sort of disgust over some girl's outfit—which was kind of horrible.

I eyed her carefully before laughing. Alice just stared at me quizzically like she couldn't find what's funny. Then she bursted out into giggles.

Skip, being the grumpy dog that he is, growled at the noise that caused him to wake up. He glared at me then at Alice.

"He's so cute!" Alice said admiringly at Skipper.

"His name is Skipper," I said, stilling glaring back at my dog.

I swear, he just rolled his eyes at me then jumped off the bed. He walked haughtily to the door and scratched at it impatiently.

"Skip, you don't want to go out there," I warned him.

He turned towards me, his adorable brown eyes pleading. Skipper turned back towards the door and scratched it again with more urgency than before. He was either hungry, or wanted to go for a walk. He has to be insane to want either with that racket downstairs. Maybe he's slowly going deaf and can only hear the words: Skip, food, walk, and steak.

"Aw! I didn't know you had a dog," Alice had these goo-goo eyes that most people get when they see a tiny fluffy white dog.

"We lock him up when people come. I gave him some of the roast last time and he shut up, but he hid it around the house last night and was guarding it all night long," I rolled my eyes at the typical Skipper behavior.

"Oh! I want a dog like him, he's so cute," Alice gushed at the forever puppy-like state Skip was stuck in for the rest of his grumpy doggie days.

"Be careful," I warned, watching Skipper carefully as Alice skipped her way to the dog. "He's a grumpy old dog who can—and will—bite the hell out of you."

Alice proceeded to rub Skipper on the head. He panted, and then showed her his belly wanting her to rub it and to show Alice her dominance over him. Alice just rubbed it gently causing Skipper to wag his tail against the thick carpet causing a thumping sound that paled to the sound coming from the speakers downstairs.

"Wow," I said genuinely surprised. "He likes you."

Alice giggled happily. "Cool."

I went to look at the laptop screen so I could finish watching my movie, only to find that it was already over. I sighed. Well, I guess since that there was someone in my room, I couldn't really ignore them, no matter how tempting that sounds. Anyway, it might be a little better if I actually have some fun in this stupid party for once—even if it is only with one person who I hardly know and we don't really go anywhere outside my room.

"So, Alice, where'd you guys come from anyway?" I asked not because I was curious, but just for some sort of conversation.

Alice looked up at me, still rubbing Skip's pink stomach. "Baltimore. Dad used to be a surgeon for Johns Hopkins Hospital, but it was too busy. Too much of a mess. So, Mom convinced him to move to a small town, for the small town life," Alice stated simply with a shrug.

Johns Hopkins Hospital . . . I feel like it should hold some sort of importance, but to me it was just a name of some hospital. But obviously it was much much more than that. The way Alice said it, made it sound prestige. Like it was more of a title than a name.

"Johns Hopkins Hospital," I repeated. "Is that good?" I asked confused.

Alice made a face before she walked over to me to sit at the bedside's edge, making the dog jump up and follow her. "I guess so," she murmured.

"It sounds like it'd pay more than Forks Hospital," I observed.

Alice shrugged. "I guess. But it doesn't really matter," she stroked the comforter with her pale thin fingers.

"Doesn't matter?" I snorted. "_Right_."

Alice didn't continue with an answer; her face was grave. But that changed quickly and Alice started chattering about something else that had a lighter context in it.

"So why aren't you down there with everyone else?" she asked me curiously, while she pointed downwards to the first floor.

I shrugged. "Party's aren't really my thing," I replied honestly.

And they haven't. No matter what type of party or gathering it is, I automatically position myself to the corner and watch people have fun. It could be as insignificant like this party, a birthday gathering, or a funeral or something and I just do the same thing. I don't even really like birthday parties—especially my own. I mean, everyone hovering over me just because I'm a year older. Wow. It's such a big deal that I've lived yet another year without going completely insane—an occasion we should celebrate indefinitely. I'm just not entirely comfortable with me being the center of attention because when you're there, people judge you to whatever suits them best.

Alice tilted her head to the side and looked at me questioningly. "But Rosalie said this was _your_ party," Alice repeated the words that Rosalie apparently had said.

"What?!" Why'd Rose do that? She knows I hate parties and to throw my own? That's insane.

Alice nodded. "Yeah. She said you, Jasper, and her were throwing a big party later and we should come," Alice had an excited sparkle in her eyes that made me feel bad that I had her cooped up in my room instead of going _out_ where the party was; where she seem to belong. Alice doesn't seem like me, who's afraid of just going out there.

"Fine," I said giving into the guilt. "Let's go downstairs."

Alice jumped up. "Really!? Thank you Bella!" she wrapped her tiny pale arms around me and hugged me tight. I froze under her arms. What was I suppose to do? Hug her back? It'd just be weird. I don't generally hug people I just met, like, yesterday—or ever for that matter.

She released me and grabbed one of my limp arms and tugged. "Come on!" she said excitedly.

I lifted myself up with my free hand and followed a perky Alice outside my door. I slipped a key in my pocket, and locked the door before I closed it; the halls were relatively empty with the usual random couple sucking faces and the last thing I wanted is to find one of them in my room. I sniffed the air carefully, making sure that there wasn't anything in it that shouldn't be. Thankfully, I smelled nothing. So either no one has brought out the pot yet, or Jasper kicked them outside to smoke it. Hopefully, the former. But I already knew that the alcohol was already brought out. And it wasn't even the good kind, it was the cheap beer that tasted like crap. People only drink it because it seems 'cool.' Right, drinking nasty tasting beer is über cool.

"Gross," I gagged, walking down the stairs. The place was trashed with bottles, papers, random articles of clothing, and food was scattered on the floor; and people were either too drunk or high to register that fact or even care.

Alice skipped her through the crowd squeezing her petite body through the thick crowd. That might have been easy for her since she was so tiny, but I had a harder time copying her moves. After I could finally stand without someone too close to me, I scanned the room for Alice, but I couldn't spot her spiky black hair from the crowd. Great.

"Bella!" a horribly familiar voice called me. I winced at just the sound. I tried to walk away as fast as I could, but the voice's owner was faster than I was. He placed a hand on my shoulder and whipped me around so I could look at him.

"Oh," I tried to smile, but found that I, surprisingly, couldn't. I groaned, "Hi Mike."

Mike Newton. Disgusting, perverted, nauseating, and vile Mike Newton. He was the school wannabe-pervert-player. He's Jasper's Jessica. Poor thing—Jasper, not Mike—having Mike follow him everywhere. And, for some odd reason he hits on me, regularly. Which is, gross. I mean, Mike isn't exactly hideous or anything. He was actually kind of cute a couple of years ago, but recently he transitioned into this . . . pig. He never did anything in front of Jazz though, he knew better than that, sadly—it'd make my day seeing Mike being beaten to a pulp thanks to Jasper.

"I was looking for you everywhere," he purred. I flinched when he started rubbing his thumb against my skin.

"Um, yeah. That's great," I said trying to walk away, but Mike snaked his arm around my waist, making his hold on me tighter.

"You're not going anywhere Bella," he grinned. "We never talk anymore Bella."

"Mike, we never use to talk to each other," I pointed out mentally that his eyes were glazed over and his speech was slurred. That's just _fanfreakingtastic_, he's drunk.

"That's a lie and you know it Bella," he whispered in my ear.

I pushed Mike on his chest, but he was stronger than me and he could hardly tell that I was trying to get him off me. In fact, he was leaning on me now and I could smell the beer and smoke on him; it clouded my lungs making it hard to breathe.

"Mike, really. Get. Off. Me. Now!" I shoved harder this time; and he felt it this time too.

He laughed at my futile attempt. "You aren't going anywhere," he sneered into my ear.

I glared at him, clenching my jaw. Mike's face was way too close for comfort. I could see the crazed focused look in Mike's pale blue eyes.

"That's what _you _think," I hissed under my breath.

I stomped on Mike's foot—hard. He howled in pain, releasing me so I could escape. I ran through the kitchen, ignoring the weird glances that I got from people. I thew myself in the library, and slammed the door shut breathing heavily. I slumped to the ground breathing heavily. I could still hear my heart beat pumping in my ears.

I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing down the waves of fear and desperation; replacing it with nothingness.

"Bella?"

I looked up, to see Edward sprawled on the couch watching a movie—yeah, we have a TV set in the library; really practical right? My family aren't exactly scholars, or literarists.

"Oh. Edward. Hey," I mumbled loud enough for him to hear. I rubbed the spot where Mike's hands touched me unconsciously.

"You okay?" he asked me, taring his eyes away from the screen to look at me. I couldn't look back in them, so I made them focus on the rug instead.

"Yeah," I replied.

My eyes now looked at the books on the shelves. Nobody else read them except me. Aunt Stace wanted to know what type of books I could help her fill it with since hers only did a shelf and a half and Uncle Tim only one shelf. I filled the whole thing. It was all for show, but I read them religiously. They were my favorites after all. Yeah, I'm a nerd. Your point is . . . ?

"Uh-huh," he scoffed not believing me for a second.

"Really I'm fine," I tried convincing him.

"Sure," he scoffed making me look. He cocked an eyebrow at me.

"Fine, whatever. Don't believe me," I crossed my arms defiantly.

"What are you running from anyway?" he asked me curiously, he leaned forward placing his arms on his legs, letting one hang, leisurely.

"Excuse me?" I snapped, watching him carefully.

He held his hands up. "Hey, a little touchy are we?" he smirked playfully.

I didn't relax my position.

He chuckled. "It looks like you were running from the boogeyman," he joked.

"Oh, that," I let myself relax a little. "Nothing. It was nothing."

He stared at me both skeptical and worried.

"Seriously," I pressed. I'm not sure why I'm trying to convince Edward, I don't even know the guy. "I'm—"

"Let me guess," Edward cut me off with a sarcastic laugh. I want to just wipe that smug smile off his face. "Fine. Your fine, right?"

I drew my lips into a hard line. Straightening my back. "Ha. You're funny."

He tossed his head back laughing. He leaned back on the plush coach running a hand through his really soft looking hair, laughing.

I sucked on my left cheek, biting down on the squishy flesh. I'd rather go out and face perv Mike than stay here with Edward. All he did was either mock me or didn't believe a word I said. At least Mike believes me. Well, except when I said we don't talk to each other, and that I'm not interested . . . but other than that, Mike believes me. So I stood up and proceeded to leave.

"Hey," Edward called out to me. "Wait a minute."

I could hear his voice call out for me, but I just tuned it out. I mean, it wasn't like I've never tuned anyone out before. So, it was easy.

I snuck my way back to where the party was. Everyone was having a good time. Dancing, talking, making out, drinking, smoking, and goofing off. It looked like one of those stupid teen movies tween girls watch religiously before they decide that this is how high school is and that these are the cool parties that they want to go to. Reality check. These parties are boring—at least to me—and stupid. I can't believe people actually wanted to be invited to these stupid things.

"Bella, wait," someone called out to me. But the voice was so distorted from the pounding music that I couldn't tell who it came from.

That's when a hand grabbed me on my wrist. I looked down and the white hand against my skin; and slowly looked up to the owner.

"Mike," I groaned.

"Where'd you go?" he asked grabbing my other wrist tightly with his other hand.

"Okay," I sighed getting tired of Mike's continuous antics. "Seriously, Mike. Not now. I was going upstairs to go to sleep or something."

He just grinned. "We both can go upstairs to sleep . . . or _something_," his words were even more jumbled together than last time I talked to him.

"Mike, really," I tried to worm my way out, but he just tightened his grip on me not letting me go. I winced at the pain. He was putting _serious_ pressure on my wrist now. Okay. It _really really_ hurt now. I had to wince at the sharp pain that went through my wrist.

He laughed. "Does it hurt Bella?"

"No," I mustered as much indifference as I could.

"Hey, dude," yet another voice said gruffly as possible. "Let Bella _go_."

I looked up at my tall blonde savior. Of course it was Jasper. It'll always be Jasper who saves me. Never anyone else. Well, no one else even cares so I guess that makes sense for Jasper to by my only savior. I'm thankful, really I am, but sometimes, I wish . . . I wish that someone _other_ than Jazz would come to my rescue—which is actually quite often—but not only come, but want to come. But we all have our stupid wistful thoughts, don't we?

"We're just talking, aren't we Bella?" Mike gave me a sleazy stare that made me retch.

I adverted my eyes from both of their stares. "Mike, your hurting me," I said loud enough for the both of them to hear.

"Let her go Newton," Jasper spat. His tone was murderous and I flinched at the sound.

Mike did let go, but he still stayed too close for comfort. I knew I shouldn't have looked up, but curiosity had gotten the better of me and I studied both of the boys' faces.

Mike's muddled eyes were flickering to me and Jasper really quickly. He had his hands that just released my wrists, in balls clenched to his side like he was getting ready to punch Jasper.

Jazz on the other hand was concentrating on Mike. He noticed his hands ball up and smirked. He positioned himself so that he now covered half of my body in a protective and just a tad overbearing, but right now I needed some of that. I saw something flicker in Jazz's eyes and his grin grew more noticeable than before.

I began to warn him, "Jasper don't you da—!"

But as usual, I was too late. Jasper pounced on Mike like he thought he was a freakin' mountain lion or something. I don't know what had gotten into that boy's head, but Jasper thew Mike to the wall. Mike tried to get up, but Jasper was already there in a flash. Jazz grabbed Mike from the collar of his shirt and picked him up while pressing him up against the wall like they do in movies.

It suddenly had gotten real quiet—even the music ceased it's noise—and everyone's eyes were fixed on Mike and Jasper. They stared with their mouth's hanging open waiting for someone to throw a punch. Typical. All these people do is watch others get hurt for their own entertainment purposes. Disgusting. Okay, so I do it myself. Call me a hypocrite, I don't care.

"Jasper!" I cried out in shock running over to them so I could be closer. Jasper ignored me, but Mike looked at me pleading for help. He looked frightened now. More so than I've ever seen him.

"You'll never touch Bella, or I'll make sure that every bone in your fucking body is broken," Jasper threatened. He was using a tone that I've seldom heard. It made me take an automatic step back, at the vehemence of it.

Mike looked down, not meeting Jasper's eyes. Bad move.

Jasper threw Mike against the wall hard, making Mike groan in pain. "Do you hear me?!" he yelled fiercely.

Mike nodded weakly looking like he wanted to go home right about now.

"Ever," he continued. "I don't want you to _ever_ touch her."

"Dude, I got it," Mike said feebly.

"You better," Jasper hissed, not holding back on any venom.

"Can I get down now?" he asked exasperatedly, his legs just swinging helplessly a couple inches off the ground.

Jasper dropped Mike on the floor with an audible _bang._

"Jesus, man, she's just your cousin," he commented, loud enough for everyone to hear.

Jasper clenched his jaw, but otherwise ignored that comment while he wrapped his arm around my shoulders pulling me to his side tightly. He lead me to a hallway, that it's occupants emptied out quickly after seeing Jasper, but other than that, people proceeded their normal party mood just like before, with a slight whispers of Jasper and Mike getting in a fight. The rumors would no undoubtedly start soon with the craziest of things, but that's tomorrow's problem.

"Are you okay?" Jasper asked me. All traces of viciousness had disappeared quickly, and Jasper transformed from fighting mode to older cousin mode. It's not fair that nothing relatively bad as ever or will ever take care of Rosalie so Jasper didn't have to over do it with me; but I guess even if that happened, Jazz would still be as annoyingly overprotective as always.

"Yeah, Jazz I'm fine," I reassured him trying not to rub my burning wrists.

Jazz saw through me, like always, and raised an eyebrow questioning me.

"Really, just go to your party," I looked down; flicking something off my pants with one of my nails. "Savannah, or whatever, is waiting for you."

Jasper grinned. "It's Sarah," he reminded me again.

I rolled my eyes and repeated what I said earlier, "Like it matters."

Edward appeared that the other end of the hallway, and looked at me with a weird relived look on his face and smiled."Bella! I've been looking for you everywhere. I heard your cousin beat up some Newton guy," he smirked.

Jasper looked up and eyed Edward intently like he was trying to figure if Edward's intentions were good or bad.

"His name was Mike," Jasper informed Edward. "And he was bothering Bella."

The way Jasper said it, it made it sound like a threat. Oh god. I hope Jasper doesn't chase _Edward_ away too. Every time—okay it was once or twice, but still—I make a guy friend, Jasper sees him as a threat and effectively chases him out of my life, which is easy considering Jasper's a senior and one of the most popular guys at school—the cool nice popular kind, not the Lauren kind which is malevolent and vindictive—so he could easily influence just about anyone at school to help him out with chasing away some guy from me.

"Bothering, like how?" Edward asked, something flashing in his eyes. Oh great, not him too. Poor Mike he has two guys who want to kill him now.

Jasper opened his mouth to say something, but I elbowed him sharply in his ribs making him gasp for air. "Mother fu—!"

"It was nothing," I interrupted Jazz, smiling sweetly at Edward.

Edward gave me this look of pure skepticism and said, "Uh-huh."

Jasper glared at me clutching his aching ribs. "That's the thanks I get?" he said through gritted teeth.

I ignored Jasper and grabbed Edward by the arm. "Come on, I'll tell you over here," I lead him away from Jasper before he attacks Edward too.

"Bella, what happened?" he asked with genuine concern, weird.

I pulled the both of us into the nearest vacant room—the bathroom. I put down the toilet lid, and sat on the porcelain top and sat on it precariously, not wanting to put too much pressure on the delicate seat.

I sighed. "Nothing. I mean, Mike was being himself, with me. And let's just say that Jasper doesn't really like it when people act themselves."

"Mm-hmm," Edward nodded amusedly.

"With me," I continued.

"Uh-huh," Edward nodded once more, and grinned.

"In public."

He nodded.

"He's very protective," I said a little warningly. I used to have a kind of guy best friend, after Jessica, named Tyler who Jasper had tried to scare away. It really didn't work considering that Tyler was close friends with Jasper too, so he didn't do too much damage; and Tyler kind has stuck around too, but he really doesn't talk to me as much anymore.

"I'll keep that in mind," he noted, with a slightly sarcastic and slightly serious tone.

"I'm serious!" He just laughed at me. "All of the dude friends I ever make Jasper managed to scare him away."

Edward gave me his amused half smile with his head slightly tilted to the side. " '_Dude_ friend?' " he quoted me.

I narrowed my eyes at him and said, "Yes, a _dude friend._"

"So I'm your 'dude friend?' " he said amusedly.

I tried my best not to blush. "Yeah, at least I thought we were, you know, friends."

He smirked. "Is that what we are? I thought you were just my tour guide for the day," he said.

I froze.

"Oh," I said, barely a whisper. "Okay."

My body was slowly leaning towards the door ready for my escape. I already planned it all in my head: I'd run out the door jog up the steps open my door as quickly as physically possible, then I'd slam it shut and lock it. Then, I'd lie down in my bed and try to sleep. If all else fails, I can try to sneak out the window, shimmy down the pole and run to my truck. But I tried factoring Edward's height and speed. He might catch me, but I know this house way better than he does, I think that I have the advantage here.

"Come on Bella," I snapped out of my trance and didn't plan on meet Edward's eyes, "it was a joke."

"Ha," I grumbled as sarcastic as I felt at the moment. "Very funny. I think I'm going to go . . . Somewhere else . . . Now."

I heard him sigh, but I was already getting up and I think if I looked into his green eyes I would stay. So I fixed them on the door nob.

"We can watch a movie or something," he suggested wistfully.

"No thanks," I turned the nob and headed out the door.

Edward just followed me out. So instead of going to my room, I decided it'd be best if I went to the library, no one hangs out in the library during a party. If they wanted TV they'd go to the huge plasma in the other room. And if they wanted to read, well, they're at the wrong place. It's way too loud, and sometimes you hear things that you're not suppose to hear—or want to hear for that matter.

"Jeez, can't you take a joke?" Edward commented watching me as I sat on the couch and turned the TV on. I flipped through the channels for something decent to watch—there was nothing.

Edward sat on the empty cushion to my right and muttered to himself aloud, "Apparently not."

"What's that suppose to mean?!" I demanded, looking into his intense green eyes.

He looked back at me like he was trying to figure something out, like an extremely difficult puzzle; or one of those Rubix cubes things—I could never finish them without peeling the stickers off. He grinned briefly, and then shrugged.

"That you can't take a joke, _obviously_," he stated like it was a fact, which it wasn't. I can take a joke. I can _so_ take a joke better than most people.

I glared at him, ignoring the fact that he kind of resembled a puppy. "I can take a joke thank you very much," I turned sharply back to the screen and focused on the program playing. It was some random show playing on Nick Nite, which aren't that bad; especially if you're going to stay up all night with a box of cereal and a carton of milk.

"Sure, that's why you reacted the way you did," Edward said. "I mean, I wasn't serious or anything. I mean I came over your house and watched _Bones_ with you and ate that pie you made."

"Your parents made you came," I said still not looking at him, "Besides, it wasn't very nice."

I could hear Edward scoff a bit. I restrained myself from turning around and smacking him with the pillow next to me. It was one of those decorative pillows, with all of those fancy decorations on it and patterns, it could be a really violent weapon in the right—or I guess wrong—hands.

"It wasn't really nice? That's all you can come up with," I could practically hear the smirk in his voice, but I focused my attention on George Lopez and whatever debacle he placed himself into this time as best as I could.

"Maybe," I grumbled crossing my arms over each other.

He laughed and I had to look at him it was impossible not to. I tried to contain my own laughter, but my attempt was futile, and I laughed with him.

"Wow, that's just a little sad that all you could come up with is, 'it wasn't very nice,' " he teased grinning.

"Well, I couldn't think of anything else!" I defended lamely not trying to disguise the smile that slowly revealed itself on my face.

"So this is your party," Edward said conversationally.

"Um, yea. It kind of, not really," I said laughing looking at Edward. I noticed that there was a serious edge to his eyes, that made me tilt my head a little to the side trying to figure out what he's dwelling on.

"I was just wondering why you aren't out there like my sister, your cousins," he asked me curiously.

I pursed my lips together trying to figure out an answer that he could understand. "Parties aren't really my thing; I kind of think of it like torture—I kinda hate them," I stated bluntly.

He raised his eyebrows, not in surprise though, but in curiosity. "That's a little extreme don't you think? I mean, parties and torture?" he said smirking.

"Poe-tae-toe, poh-tah-toe," I said looking at the tiny hazel flecks in Edward's green eyes.

He just turned to the TV, still grinning, and continued to watch George Lopez with me. I had to forcibly tear my eyes away from Edward and towards the screen, but I did it. I was proud of myself that I did and that I focused them on the TV screen for a long amount of time too.

Time just seemed to flow by effortlessly, like there was none. It was a great feeling.

"Can we watch something else?" Edward suggested after two episodes of George Lopez.

"Why?" I asked confusedly. "I love George Lopez."

He just shook his head. "No, it's not that. We've just watched three episodes. I just want to watch a movie or something," he shrugged at his suggestion.

"Oh, sure," I flipped through the guide and started looking at HBO and STARS for some sort of decent commercial free movie. Some times you would get lucky and find a really good new movie or one of the best oldish ones.

It took me a while, but a found an okay-but-not-really scary flick called _The Messengers_. It kind of looked okay-ish by the info button. And it was about to start any minute. So I played it finding that it was a lame thriller that had it's moments—rarely. Edward and I laughed at the horrible acting and the bad plot lines. It was nearing the end and I stretched out a little, my joints were aching. I flexed my fingers and nuzzled my head against the pillow that I considered smacking Edward with earlier. I brought my legs up on the couch, so I could lie down and watch the movie; making sure that the tips of my toes, or any part of me really, couldn't touch any part of Edward.

Slowly, and unconsciously, I must have fallen into a deep deep sleep consisting of annoying flesh eating crows.

Author's Note: Okay, so I've been done with this, for a while now and I haven't had enough time _to _update and do some final edits. My schedule has been busy, especially last weekend with a number of birthday events and then I had to go to school to fix some stuff—like the fact that I _still_ don't have a locker and school is exactly a week away. So that's going to be fun—the carrying around five books because I don't have a locker part. Yippee. .

The updates will be more frequent than this, I promise.

A special thanks to: rerose1975, thanks for clicking on ten fics before finding mine and found it decent, I swear I'll update sooner; winchesterxgirl for thanks for giving my all human AU a chance—is long bad?—SwanBella228 for all of your awesome reviews and your awesome poem ;D; and everyone else who was waiting for the new chapter. Thanks for all of your support, and I love you all! Cookies for everyone!!


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